Pain for Pleasure
by American Soldier
Summary: Xander is wounded, mentally and physically, but...will this lead to something better or worse?
1. Chapter 1

One of a Kind

Timeline: Season 2, 'The Dark Ages'

Disclaimer: don't own. Just using for a fanfiction. Belongs to M.E.



Xander awoke with a start as he felt a foreign sensation invade his nose.

"Wakey, wakey, Boy," the peculiarly English voice called out, "You're missing everything."

"Oh, yeah," Xander muttered, even as he saw Ethan Rayne set down a dish filled with tattoo equipment…he really hated himself for leaving the library in a huff after Cordy had insulted him by saying he'd turn out just like his dad…and for going out after Ethan, "And what is it, exactly, that I'm missing? A free prostate exam?"

"Something like that," the British man said dryly as he sat down beside the table that Xander was tied to, "But, actually, you're about to be initiated."

"Can I revoke my nomination," Xander asked.

"No," the Englishman said, "Besides, I already voted you in."

"Oh, joy, I get to be a part of the heavy metal black magic cult…I'm joining the _Sex Pistols_ on a newt buzz."

"I actually quite enjoyed the _Sex Pistols_," Ethan muttered, "But, enough of that. Time to get down to business," the Englishman set himself down on a chair beside the table as he said this, "You know, I do hope you aren't taking this too personally. You see, I rather like you, boy, it's just that…I rather like myself much more."

"How noble," Xander muttered, "I get to die so a pansy can live. Joy."

"Sweet child," Ethan said with a sneer, "Now, this might hurt for…just a moment," he muttered as he grabbed the tattoo needle, "But, don't worry. That should go away after the searing pain kicks in."

Xander gritted his teeth as he felt Ethan began to dig into the flesh on the right shoulder blade with the needle. Ironically, if it had not been for Ethan's former enterprise on the Hellmouth, Xander would not have been able to handle the pain as greatly as he was. Soldier guy had had several tattoos during his time, and Xander had inherited the memories of each one…including the pain.

"You can go ahead and scream if you like," Ethan whispered into his ear.

"No, thanks," Xander muttered, "As they say, I have to…keep things…frosty."

"Oh, yes, that's right," Rayne said aloud as he continued to dig, "You're that boy who bought the rifle for the soldier costume…I wondered why you had been muttering during your sleep. The nightmares keeping you up?"

Xander resisted the urge to gasp as he realized that the ponce of a man had heard his mutterings during his dreams. Ever since that fateful Halloween, his dreams had been plagued with nightmares…jungle firefights, the killings, and, the most dramatic of the memories, the KIA's of his group.

"…Every night, I go to Hell," Xander answered coldly, "I should rip your innards out from your body and choke you with them."

"That's not very appealing," Rayne stated dryly as he continued on.

"Oh, well," Xander said, "What's happening right now ain't very appealing to me, either."

ÿ

It was sometime the next day when Xander Harris underwent another traumatic event. After being saved by Angel, due to Willow's timely idea that the demon possessing Jenny could be killed by Angelus, he had gone home, left in tatters. During the entire time that British bastard had mutilated his body, he had had flashbacks…of Korea…of Vietnam…of every single death that had ever been caused by his lateness…his inability…every single death he had ever seen.

He hadn't caught a wink of sleep.

He had spent his time addressing two things: whether or not he was going to spend the money needed to get rid of Ethan's tattoo and what was going to happen now. No one had said anything to him, but, he knew…from Buffy's look of indignity…Willow's stare of sympathy, marred with annoyance…Angel's look of contempt…Giles's glare of disappointment.

Xander held no problems in the fact that he had made a very rash decision. Yet, that wasn't the thing that was making him assess it. The fact that his instincts, which had been on high alert ever since the dreams had started, were telling him that something that was getting closer was the thing that was making him worry about his friends' opinions of himself.

So far, his instincts had told him of death and mayhem…they hadn't failed him, yet.

It was no secret to him that most of the gang either considered him a jealous bastard or a poor geek…which, in reality, both were technically true. He was jealous of Angel, not because Buffy had chosen him, but because he had simply done the whole mysterious thing and gotten underneath Buffy's skin with a simple stare…something he would never be capable of and, quite frankly, never wanted to be capable of. He was a warrior, not a Tall, Dark, and Broody redemption seeker or something. He was a soldier, not some character out an Anne Rice novel.

He was a true warrior, not someone who played the part.

And, he was a poor geek…for obvious reasons. Plus, he was a bastard. The father he had now was nonexistent, so, he didn't consider him accountable…period.

While these facts were true, the large majority of the group also thought of these facts in a different light. Whereas Xander considered them simply things he had overcome (though he still detested Angel in every sense of the word), they considered these things to be flaws. They considered him useless…and, even after all he had done, that would not change. His instincts told him so, and he trusted his instincts.

The only question was as to whether or not this event would be the straw that broke the camel's back.

ÿ

Xander sat in his room that night, thinking. The group had been edgy around him, and he knew why, despite the fact that they all believed that he didn't. They had come to the conclusion that slaying was simply too dangerous for him, and that it was in his best interests to force him out.

As though he had never fought before…as though none of the others had ever made a mistake (Buffy, putting herself above the others when she got back from the summer…Willow, not trusting them about Malcolm…Giles, not telling them about Eyghon…Angel, not helping the group out during the Harvest, though he'd never be called up on it), and that was the biggest affront they could have made to him. They put themselves above himself, as though they were, in some way, shape, or form, better than he. In reality, they were on equal ground. They each had something to contribute, be it computer skills, strength, intellect, or, in his case, an insight into modern day weaponry. He had offered a few times to Buffy about looking into more modern weapons for the Slayer, only to be shot down. Slayers were grunts, plain and simple. They had no time for things as useless as strategy, whereas they can simply start pounding away at the wall with their fists.

Alexander Harris had come to a crossroads, of sorts, forced upon himself by one reckless act…would he be forced from the group…or would he be left alone, living in his own little niche of Hell?

ÿ

Xander was jolted awake as, yet, another dream rampaged through his already extensively damaged psyche. That one had been particularly rough…it had been the night he had died…

His entire platoon had been lost to a savage group of Vietcong during a night raid on their HQ. He lost about thirty-seven men that night, including his CO, who had been one of his best friends during the entire war, and his little brother, a private…he had been their NCO…the first to get up and grab his rifle…the last to die. At least he had died nobly.

The Vietcong had taken him alive and were going to process him into a POW camp when he got a hold of their commander's knife. He had made a last ditch effort to make the raiders back off from the base, knowing that if they took any supplies from it, that they would take everything they could and use it against his own boys. He had known, too, that even if they did back off, that they would be right back as soon as he let the bastard go, or, if he tried to hold him hostage, one of their boys would take him out. That didn't matter…all he had wanted was to try and buy a little bit of time for the Spec Ops squad that had been out on a mission to find out what was happening and get the Hell outta there…or call in reinforcements to try and reclaim the area.

Instead, he had been nailed in the back by their second wave.

Sergeant First Class Alexander Howell, NCO, died that day, and his BDUs had been shipped back to the states, then, somehow had made their way into the Surplus store that Xander had bought them from. The consequences of these events…were right before his eyes as he stared down at his own shaking hands.

ÿ

Xander sat inside the high school library, his fingers on his forehead as he waited for the rest of the group to arrive. The cowards had purposefully told him the incorrect time for the Scooby meeting, as though he couldn't guess what the time really was from all the other ones. If they were going to try and keep him out, they were going to have to do better than that. At least show some smarts and start having meetings at that time a little before you changed it, just simply to throw him off.

But, then…they probably didn't even think he was worthy of that.

He looked up as he heard the doors open. He had come to a decision during his sleepless night, that if they were going to kick him out, it was going to be done on his terms.

"Hey, all," he greeted the group in a monotone as he surveyed the surprised looks of the three individuals present, "Ready for the meeting?"

Buffy, unsurprisingly, came forward with a look of sheer disbelief in her eyes. She hadn't been expecting him to show up at the correct time.

"Xander," she smiled at him sweetly, trying to catch him off guard, but failing miserably, "I didn't think you were coming."

"Why, Buffy," he asked, wanting to dance away from the subject to keep them on their toes, knowing that they would eventually slip up.

"…There's nothing big going on," she said, an obvious lie based solely upon her tone, then justified as Xander spied the quantity of books in the Watcher's hands.

"Then, what's with all the books, Buff," he questioned her, "Doing a late night study session with the G-man?"

"Don't call me that," Giles interrupted, only to hastily put his head down underneath Buffy's gaze.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Willow said in a sweet voice, trying to talk down to him as she had done in the past, "Trust me when I say…it's really boring."

Xander nodded, as though considering her words, then stated, "If it's so boring, why don't you go out on patrol, instead."

The two girls shared a look, before Buffy said, "We just got back…and ran into Giles on the way back."

"Huh," Xander said quietly, "Odd. Giles usually stays with you or at the library, in case you need him. And, I thought you all had just come in. Or, maybe you did a short patrol, what with the sun just setting two hours ago."

Willow glared at the 'blonde' girl that happened to be her best friend. She had tried to speak up beforehand, knowing that Buffy was terrible at making up a convincing lie…that didn't involve Angel.

"Or," Xander interrupted her thoughts with his next tirade, "Maybe you all just decided that I wasn't cut out for this and decided to cut me out of the loop."

All three shared a look as they realized that they had been busted.

Here, he could tell that they expected him to start fighting them about it, that he would try and convince them of his worth, of his ability, only to eventually fail before the Slayer's fury as it was unleashed. That was where the young man held the most power.

They thought they knew him…but, they really had no idea who they were dealing with.

"It's because of Ethan, isn't it," Xander asked, scratching the cloth that was directly above the tattoo itself.

The two women shared a look, even as Giles retreated to the safety of his office. He obviously didn't want to hear the two girls start screeching at him.

"Yes," Willow said after a moment, "It is."

Xander stared at the two, waiting for one of them to begin, but, it was very clear that they had little more to say over the issue. Whereas once, Willow would have defended her friend, she was now more Buffy's friend than she would ever be Xander's…it wasn't right, and Xander knew that. He also knew that he had done the same thing for quite some time.

Here was where the line would be drawn…and here was where the fate of their friendship would be determined.

"So," he took a breath to adjust his tone to a grave one, "Instead of sitting down with me and addressing your concerns with me, you decided to just cut me loose…correct?"

The two girls slowly nodded. He momentarily considered that they were feminists, then rejected the theory almost immediately. Buffy was too identified by Angel to be a feminist, though she refused to acknowledge Xander as much more than a doormat…while Willow was still somewhat making doe eyes at him, though it obviously was not enough to convince her to fight for him. Buffy meant more to her than her lifelong friend…

How skewed was that?

Besides, if anything, she was little more than a sheep now. Buffy's brainwashing (he recognized the subtle way that Buffy had slipped into Willow's mind, he had seen it done by both drill sergeants and Vietcong) had done that to her, and Xander didn't like it one bit. He really thought they would be better off if they hadn't have met Buffy or, at least, if Buffy had become friends with other people…a lot of things would have been different, maybe better, maybe worse.

He'd never know.

"I didn't even…get the chance to defend…myself, did I," he asked them, his voice betraying nothing at all.

The two girls stared at him, not sure what to say. Before he could continue, however, Buffy said, "We didn't want you to get hurt."

Typical Buffy…same arguments, same idiocy.

"But, you're perfectly fine with Willow getting hurt," he countered, knowing exactly what her next argument would be.

"Willow doesn't go out looking for trouble," she answered him…as expected.

"No," he agreed, "Trouble comes to her. I remember, after all, I was one of the beasts chasing her, from what I was told."

He could see Willow shifting uncomfortably as she remembered the hyena incident. He had known that that little example would serve to illustrate his point, knock a potential enemy off her game a little, and make Buffy say something that was incredibly predictable.

"You were possessed," she countered, "And we didn't know that they would come after you."

Again, no disappointment.

"Then, why didn't you stay," he demanded, "You had no idea of the danger, you had no idea of the habits of a hyena, and you had an inkling as to the strength level I had, and should have known that I was stronger than you…I restrained you, and nearly raped you, as I recall."

"…You didn't," Buffy started, growing more uncomfortable with the eerie calm that Xander was speaking in.

Frosty.

"I pulled your pants down to your knees," he stated calmly, "I saw your panties. That was when you threw a punch at me, then poked a thumb in my eye. Then, you hit me with a desk. You knew what I was capable of, yet, you choose to leave me with a girl with little to no experience in violence just so you can go question a guy who may or may not have the answers."

She gaped at him for a second, startled by his revealing of the events that had occurred that day, only to close her mouth tightly and say, "He did have the answers, and, as I recall, you had had the same amount of experience fighting the undead."

"Granted," he allowed, "But, I'm stronger, I have a better technique and am in better shape than Willow, but, apparently, that doesn't matter since she can still patrol. Plus, he may or may not have had the answers, Buff. It was a guess, lucky, perhaps, but...still a guess that I wouldn't have wagered Willow's life on."

"Riddle me this, Buffy…I get the cold shoulder due to a mistake…why don't you?"

"What," Buffy questioned, not really understanding him and still too confused over the last bit of conversation.

"Well, I get thrown out because I made one mistake…why not you?"

"Mistake," Buffy laughed, "What mistake have I made?"

"…I'm blaming that one on the bleach," Buffy reddened as she realized what he was referring to, "Because, even the ditziest ditz I know wouldn't ever have forgotten the events which led up to four people being captured and nearly killed, if it hadn't been for a timely intervention by a chagrined Slayer, a distant vampire, and a wounded nerd."

She flinched as his words struck her, then idly berated herself for forgetting that one.

"My mistake would have killed me, Buffy," Xander pressed forward, "But, yours nearly killed four friends. You endangered lives to 'keep us safe.' You called us civilians…I haven't been a civilian for a long time, Buffy…we haven't been anything near civilians since Jesse died."

This time, Buffy had the decency to at least look shamed. Willow, meanwhile, was furiously blinking away the tears as she saw her best friend, in what was her mind, assault her bestest friend…not for the reminder of her dead friend.

"So…I suppose that Willow will be leaving to, or be given the incorrect meeting times, since you're too much of a coward to tell her the truth," Xander stated, dryly.

Buffy opened and closed her mouth in rapid succession, searching for an answer. Willow stared at Buffy…she had been expecting to be instantly reaffirmed of her inclusion to the cause.

"Buffy," the blonde didn't turn to her redheaded friend, "Buffy, tell him. I'm not going to be kept out, I haven't done anything to deserve it!"

The Slayer turned her gaze back to her friend, but did not answer. Willow stared at her, shocked. She had presumed that she worked underneath different rules with the Slayer, but, as she stared at her friend, she could tell that Buffy was having a furious battle of wills…and Willow was losing.

Xander smiled inwardly. He knew that he would be leaving, most likely, but, if he did, he wanted Willow to know what to look out for so that she wouldn't be dropped as he had.

"I am not going to allow you to kick me out, Buffy," he stated, standing up as he did so, causing both to turn their heads to him, "But, I know you. If things don't go your way, you tend to spaz out, so, in order to make sure that you have a better chance at living, since you tend to fight with your emotions more than you do reason, I'm going to leave…you and Willow and Giles are on your own from here on out."

Buffy sighed happily as she realized that the end of it all was near, and she was going to get what she wanted, and keep her friend.

"And," she returned her full attention to Xander as he said, "Since being around you tends to have some kind of an emotional effect, I've decided that I don't want to be your friend anymore…"

Buffy stared at him, tears threatening to spill out as she realized what it might mean…she had always assumed that Xander loved her too much to be away...would he make good on his threat?

"…Or Willow's."

The redhead felt her inner dam brake as she heard this, and began to openly cry in the middle of the library. She couldn't accept it, **wouldn't** accept it…Xander was going to be her friend forever, would wait on her, be there when she needed him…be hers.

"Xander," Buffy stifled out, "Xander, please-"

"You want me as a friend," Xander told her, "But, not as someone to fight alongside. If you want the former, you have to have the latter. Make up your mind, Buffy. Tell me, right here, right now…that you're willing to let me fight beside you, and I will remain friends with both of you."

Willow instantly rounded her gaze upon Buffy, and it was shouting out pain that would come if the Slayer answered with anything aside from 'Yes.'

But, Buffy could not say yes. She couldn't force herself to, for, in her heart of hearts, she knew that she was doing the right thing…giving him a better chance at her dream…and she had no doubt that she would do it to Willow if the time ever came.

"Then, I'm outta here," Xander said and, without any pause, he left the building.

ÿ

Xander sat in his room that night, thinking. He had just left his friends, his two best friends ever, possibly **for**ever, and…

He felt good about it.


	2. Chapter 2

A Soliloquy

Timeline: Season 2, 'The Dark Ages'

Disclaimer: don't own. Just using for a fanfiction. Belongs to M.E.



Xander sighed in concentration as he began to push his body up and down in a rhythm that only he could hear. He had taken the past two days off from school, preparing himself…he had left the house the very moment he was through, got the spare key he had made years ago out, and left his house, packed with five days worth of food, a canteen filled with boiled water, and a first aid kit. He had, then, set out on a run through the woods and had been traveling north since then.

Till he hit the desert that day, then, he had begun to do pushups and sit-ups in rapid succession. His plan was to travel across the town of Sunnydale, then, back again, then off home. He was jogging and running, never walking, never sprinting…just going at a steady pace that he knew he could handle. He would pause only at night, stopping to set up camp and grab dinner, then, he would move into a lively workout for his upper body. He would do that for about four hours, then, come to a stop to enjoy four to six hours of sleep…then, get up at dawn, grab a breakfast, then, start up again. He was not worried about vampires, they mainly stuck to the populated areas, whereas, he was on the borders…relatively safe.

Besides, he was in a state to handle himself. He had been working constantly on a mental level, even more so than on his physical levels, working himself up to the level of a grunt. He remembered every single bit of advice given to him by his instructor…given to him by his first Corporal…his first NCO…his first CO…even a bit of advice given to him by General MacArthur.

He was drawing from all these lessons, all these experiences, and was forming a brand new way of life. He had been creating a whole new persona for himself, one completely self-reliant. It had taken him a while, but, Xander had eventually found one of his fatal flaws. He was too codependent on his friends. Whenever someone thought of him, they thought of him as 'Buffy's friend' or 'Willow's friend', while he himself often thought of himself as a 'Slayerette.' He was presently disgusted with himself for defining himself as a sidekick…someone unworthy of being noticed. That was why he never got respect…

He was too busy sucking up to his friends.



Two Days Later:

Xander set up camp for the last time. Tomorrow, he would be back home…ready to avoid his eagerly awaiting parents (sarcasm, gotta love it). After that…he was still thinking.

He had taken his time during the whole thing, going on back roads that he knew would take him a while to get through. Then, circling around through the desert to get to the other side of town. It had been worth it, in the end. He was slowly changing and he was fairly certain that it would take full effect soon. The change had been occurring since Halloween, and it had gotten into high gear after he had broken ties with the gang.

Life was like a game of chess…if played correctly, he would make life very easy for himself…or give someone a second chance at life. Xander was a soldier, at heart, and a good soldier knows that, even though he has been separated from his platoon, his friends…that he has to keep on going and carry out the mission, even if he is the last man standing. To the young man, he was the last man living from his unit. The rest may have been there, may still be there, but…they were no longer his allies. He, as well as they themselves, had seen to that.

The question was…how to go about continuing the war?



Two Days Later:

Xander stood upon the second level of the nightclub known as _The_ _Fiend_. He had known about the club for a month now and was going to mention it to Giles, find out if it was a demon-zone, but, the epic kick-Xander-out-athon had occurred so, he wasn't planning on sharing that bit of information just…ever. He needed a combat zone for himself, an area where he could hunt vampires and demons safely, away from the prying eyes of his once-friends, who would assuredly be keeping tracks on him for a short while…till they lost interest. He had made doubly sure that he had lost Buffy before coming around, though, he was not sure as to whether or not Angel had tailed him but, he hadn't felt that ordinary creep he had whenever Deadboy was around, so, he was going to assume the best.

Still, he didn't want to be made into an ass, so, he was going to be especially careful. The upper level was filled with a bunch of…strange smelling plants that gave off a…he supposed these people found it erotic, considering how many people were starting to go into XXX mode, but, to him, it smelled like compost.

He never really did understand these Goths.

The club itself was made out into three levels, the first one (ground) for the dancing, drinking, and flirting, even including an area sectioned off for Internet dating, where they could meet and greet safely. The upper level, the one he was on, was darkened so that dates could…for lack of a better word, fornicate. IF it weren't for the smells (from both humans and plants), he would have gone back downstairs. However, the smells made sure to, at the very least, drive Angel away, and the upper level had the best view of the door, so, he digressed for the sake of the mission.

The third level (basement) was something else entirely. It was the red light district, again, for lack of a better term. _Fiend_ had a reputation as being one of the best brothels in Southern California, which added to his suspicions that there was some level of demonics around there…at the very least, a succubus or desperate vamp (they never went after hookers or strippers, unless they were after the sex or they hadn't fed in weeks…most vamps preferred the beast with two backs instead of letting their inner beast out for a pint) and, at the very worst, an underground organization.

Still, as he had mentioned in the past, he was in a war. The front was not necessarily decided by him…it was decided by the measure of the evil. If there was just the odd vamp or two in the club, then, he'd take them out. If there was something larger…then, he'd deal with it…on his own.

He wished he could use guns…but, he didn't want to draw attention to himself.



The next night:

Xander watched from down the alleyway behind _Fiend_ as two potential marks exited the club, accompanied by two extremely good looking girls. He sighed as headed back down the other end, just to make sure no one was ganging up on him. After a full day and night of scanning the area to find its layout, he knew the patterns of the surrounding streets and sewer system by heart. The end of the alley looked solid but, in reality, there was a small space, large enough for an adult man to squeeze through, certainly large enough for a few vamps to sneak outta.

Fortunately, as Xander shined his Maglight down the path, he was rewarded with no vampiric presences. He put the light out and tiptoed back up toward the dual couples. One of the men was pressing a woman up to the wall, while the other girl was pressing the guy up to the other wall to his right.

_Multiple hostiles_, his mind translated the situation for him, _Two potential hostages, narrow space, two ways out…primary objective, release the hostages safely; secondary objective, dust vamps._

He reached into his pack and withdrew a pair of black squirt guns, ones that looked extraordinarily like real handguns, along with a black stake. He needed every advantage he could get in order to make sure these two got away safely.

As he walked forward, he placed the stake between his belt loops, making it loose for easy access, though not loose enough to fall out. He gripped his pistols firmly, ready to squeeze the triggers the second they were needed. He moved slowly, not making one sound, ever.

Finally, the moment came as the two vamped out. He stamped down on the ground, hard, drawing both their attentions as he did so. He knew that they could see very well in the dark, and could probably see the color of his eyes in that light…fortunately, he had that planned out.

"Who're you," one of them asked.

He stepped forward, his boots gleaming in the night, and glared at them both. They both took a step back upon seeing his eyes…he had gotten red contacts for the occasion. While not wanting to make a big stir, he did want to scare the first vamps he came upon. Even vamps got scared of red eyes in the night.

It this had been a movie, he would have made a witty comment or said a catchphrase…something like 'Your Death,' or some bull like that. However, Xander Harris was not in a movie. He was in a war, a real life war. That was one thing he despised about the old group…Buffy, in particular, treated it like a drama. She didn't really think of the people killed by vamps, not really. On occasion, she would, when one particular death struck close to home or she actually witnessed it. In some ways, that was good. Actually pausing to think about the deaths would cause hesitation. However, there was no point in trying to deny them. The people killed weren't extras…they were real people.

She claimed that she felt a weight on her shoulders for every death but, he doubted it…she was too busy looking at fashion magazines and daydreaming about Angel. She was too much of a kid…it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but, she allowed it to get in the way when it mattered.

Thankfully, though, Xander wasn't in a movie. He was in real life, and every second counted. All these thoughts passed through him in a microsecond as he lifted both his arms and opened fire. He smelled the burning skin with a grim satisfaction and ignored the screams of the two vamp, all the while firing on their eyes. The eyes were the gateway into the soul, they said…didn't surprise him when he found nothing inside.

The two hostages took that opportunity, thankfully, to get as far away from the vamps as they could. Unfortunately, that also meant that, since the two demons were blocking the alleyway entrance, they had to come to him. Without much hesitation, the boy and girl quickly got behind him, crouched down, hoping to not draw attention to themselves…smart, except for the fact that he could defend them from that angle and deal with these two vamps.

Sighing, the young warrior tossed one of the squirt guns behind his shoulder, saying, "Shoot 'em if they come near, and watch your six."

With a dispassionate glare directed towards the two hostiles, the young man reached along his belt and withdrew a stake…he had decorated the 'blade' part of the weapon with holy symbols…a cross, the Star of David, a verse written a Arabic from the Koran (May Allah watch over us), even a Chinese symbol that renounced evil. The handle was wrapped in leather, big enough for his hand to grasp onto without any difficulty.

He gripped it tightly in his hand, holding the weapon in his right and the squirt gun in his left, and mentally prepared for an assault. He squirted each vamp one more time, in the neck, and bolted forward…he made no roars or battle cries as he did so, knowing that stealth was of the essence. He landed a deadly kick to the male vampire to the genitals, knowing that that would buy him enough time to stake him but, not wanting to be caught off guard later on, Xander used his backward momentum to his advantage and spun around, landing a devastating punch to the female vampire's neck.

The blinded vampire clutched her already burned throat and coughed out, a natural reaction to being punch in the throat. Before she could recover, the young man planted his stake deep within her chest. She was dust on the ground long after he had moved on to the male vampire, easily sliding his weapon through the dead heart, causing all its demonic energy to leave its body, a decayed corpse composing itself into dust.

Xander sighed and reached into his pocket. He kept a small notebook inside, where he had made a chart designed especially for this. He recorded the time of the kill, the number of enemies taken out, which weapons he had used, and the number of saved civilians. With yet another sigh, Xander replaced his notebook and turned around to face the two civilians he had saved.

The girl was somewhat reminiscent of Cordelia dressed in a fashionable dress that left nothing to the imagination (he could literally see her tits through the small dress), though her skin was nowhere near as tanned as the Queen C. She had long, brown hair and eccentric, green eyes…though she was dressed trashy, her eyes betrayed a great bit of intelligence…she must have been led out for a night on the town by someone, possibly her girlfriends.

The male was dressed much more casually, in a pair of jeans that appeared as though he had just left an auto shop of some kind and a black shirt that had a slight tare in the right sleeve, like it had snagged on something. He had tanned arms and a dark face, but, most likely, that was all that was tanned about him. They called it a 'farmer's tan,' if his memory served him well. His boots were ordinary working boots, a stark contrast to the girl's designer heels. He had long hair, almost reaching his shoulder blades, and black eyes.

All four eyes were filled with a mixture of curiosity, fear, and confusion. They were wondering what he would do next, what those things were, and how that had happened. Xander had a strict rule about that…don't share unless you absolutely had to. If they started trumpeting around, looking for whatever it was that had tried to ice them, then Xander would talk to them. Or, if they started doing research…then, he'd talk to them. But, not until then.

Slowly, the young man came forward, and they both backed up quickly as he did so. They were scared of him…good. Fear taught people how to stay alive. Xander, even slower than before, stretched out his hand, palm open. They stared at him for a second before a light lit up in the girl's head. She smacked the man, or young man, since he was probably Xander's own age, in the arm, saying, "Give him back his gun."

The male nodded and tossed the gun back to Xander, who nodded in acceptance and returned it to his pack. He took a breath to think and said, "You'd better be going…someone will have heard the commotion."

He glared at them both, hoping that they would get the message…thankfully, they did, and they hightailed back into the club, presumably to get a ride as fast as they could and return to the safety of their homes.



Inside _Fiend,_ the girl known as Susannah Shari angrily approached a group of gossiping girls, the girls that had forced her into coming out on a night on the town when she would usually stay home and study for her internship at Sunnydale General.

"Wow," Anette, one of the Cordette rejects, said as she surveyed Susannah's misshapen state, "That guy really roughed you up, didn't he?"

The young nurse in training simply glared and said, "One of you, I don't care who, take me home right now!"

The girls each shared a look with each other, clearly not understanding why Susannah wanted to go home so early. It was only twelve o'clock!

"I'll take you home," a soft, yet masculine voice said behind her, and Susannah turned her head around and gratefully rested her gaze upon the boy who had been out there with her.

"Thank you, Timothy," she thanked her cousin, who had come to the same bar on the same night as she had, by some curious grace.

She followed Timothy Felder outside _Fiend_ to the parking lot nearby, where she knew his Harley would be waiting. He had gotten that bike off of a grateful costumer at his father's auto shop, where Timothy was a rising star and would eventually take over after earning a degree or two from UCLA the year after next.

"…What do you think that was," he asked her as he settled onto his bike, giving her a helmet as he had done so.

"I don't know," she answered as she strapped her head inside, while he did the same, "But, I want to find out."

"There goes your ever inquisitive mind, right to work like your dad on an air conditioner," her cousin said with a grin, though she couldn't see it through the helmet.

"Shut up and drive, Tim," she heard him growl at that, he hated being called Tim, "And meet me tomorrow, after school, in the library. We're doing research."

"Do you really think Sunnydale High School's library has anything that might tell us what that was," Timothy asked as he started the vehicle.

"Are you kidding," she asked with a laugh, "That's where Buffy Summers and her clique of misfits hang out…and they're always involved in this kind of stuff."

"We've seen weird things before," Timothy muttered, remembering the party he had attended at a fraternity he had snuck into around Halloween, and the weird guys dressed as Druids, talking about some kinda god, "How come this one's got you itching for knowledge?"

"Because," she muttered as he drove near the parking lot exit, "This is the first one that nearly got me killed."


	3. Chapter 3

Security Compromised

Timeline: Season 2, 'The Dark Ages'

Disclaimer: don't own. Just using for a fanfiction. Belongs to M.E.



Xander Harris walked into Sunnydale High School for the first time since he had taken his little trip to go and find himself. He was tired, not from the night before, but from the morning. His dear father had been his usual self but, where Xander Harris would have once simply ignored his dad, the new and improved version would have nothing of it. The first punch had brought a shock to his system as he realized that he had hit his own father.

In point of fact, the young man knew that he had done no wrong. Tony Harris had been in desperate need of a whippin' for years, and he knew that it must have come as a shock to receive it from your wimp of a son. Still, Xander had morals of the past left over, though he was trying to convert them to something more presentable…to the beings that he would be fighting, night and, most certainly at some point, in the day.

His thoughts were jerked away from his prior altercation with his sperm donor as his eyes caught a flicker of motion nearby. Now, Xander was in the middle of a hallway during early morning time. There was plenty of movement around him. Yet, for some reason, his mind had told him that this particular bit of movement meant a great deal.

_Oh, shit_, he thought rapidly as he recognized the two people that he had saved last night…then, he berated himself for being so easily panicked. This was Sunnydale…no one ever remembered Buffy when she saved them, nor when he, Giles, Angel, or Willow saved them, so, the odds were that he was in the green for them. And, if not, the best thing he could do was to move on as though they meant nothing…it would either scare them away if they recognized him, or ignore him as he was often so.

Banking on this usual bit of Hellmouth luck, the young man continued along his path, passing both of them as he did so. The second he had gotten to the end of the hall, about to turn a corner to enter his classroom…he had known that they had seen him.



"Timothy," Susannah said quietly from behind her books, "Look over there…who's that?"

Her cousin turned around to face where she was indicating and had to keep himself from gasping as he recognized that face.

"Put him in black," he muttered, placing his hands in his jeans jacket pockets as he did so, "Add red eyes…that's him."

"Who is he," Susannah wondered aloud, rubbing her neck along where her yellow dress was open, knowing that it would have been ripped out by those…things…if it hadn't been for him.

"He's," she stared up at her cousin, wondering if he actually knew, "…Xander Harris. My God in Heaven, I never would have believed it."

"Xander Harris," she said, her eyes wide with shock, "The nerd? I don't believe it."

"It's true," Timothy muttered, his own disbelief easily staled as he imagined their fellow classmate inside the same garb as the warrior that had saved them, "I know it."



At lunch, Timothy and Susannah were sitting outside in the quad, quietly discussing what they should do now that they knew, or, at least, believed they knew who their rescuer was.

"He hangs out in the library," Susannah, who wanted to find out what was happening much more than her cousin did, stated haughtily, "The only friends he has are Buffy and Willow. We go there, demand an answer-"

"What if we don't like the answer," Timothy muttered as he bit into his apple. By far, he was not quite as eager to discover the truth as Susannah. He was a creator and a poet so, he held a much deeper understanding of the world than she did. He spent his days working on cars and writing, while she spent it all on nursing, working at Sunnydale General or attending health classes.

"What does it matter," she wondered aloud, confused at her cousin's attitude about it all, "Do you really believe that you can just…go on not knowing?"

"I have most of my life," he said with a grin, "I'm not sure if either one of us are ready to let go of our reality. You realize that would be what it is, if we do that. Whatever we find, no matter what it is or how bad we want it, we'll never be able to go back. We'll have to live with this constant burden over our heads. Why do you think he saved us, or Buffy and her gang do all the weird things they do?"

"Because they want to be heroes," she stated with no small amount of uncertainty, she didn't really know. She wasn't as deep as he was, she preferred a world of routine…which was a part of why she wasn't doing as well in nursing as she could.

"Because they can't sit around, knowing what's out there without acting," Timothy said, "Do you think we'll be any different?"

She didn't have an answer for him.



Willow Rosenberg watched in a mixture of sadness and anger as her once best friend, Xander, walked down the halls. So far, she had only seen him in a few classes but, he had sat as far away from them as he could. From what she had heard, the whole school was wondering what she or Buffy could have done to make Xander Harris, who all knew loved them both like sisters, want to be away from them.

If only they knew the truth, then…they would be wondering how best to dispose of the two girls' body parts.

She had not yet seen the error of her ways, though she felt that she had come to a conclusion. She felt that Xander had acted as he had done, at least to her, due to the grief that Buffy had put him through, selectively forgetting that she had been a great deal of that grief. She felt that Buffy had merely dragged her out into the crossfire, and that she could repair the damage…with either the Resolve Face or, what she considered to be her most deadliest weapon…her love for him.

She was willing to reveal her feelings for the young man just to have him back in her life. She saw herself as an innocent in this, perhaps **the** innocent. She lacked the capacity to see the fact that she had been a big contributor to all his pain, and to his final decision. This was caused by a combination of things, most notably her hero worship of Buffy and her love for him. She wanted him to be safe, to be there, waiting for her, when she herself would not want to wait for him. She was getting sick of waiting for him to wake up and look at her.

As to her hero, she believed the blonde Slayer to be a grand being…strong, confident, able to get the job done. All the things she believed herself to be incapable of. So, in an act completely characteristic of a depressed computer nerd who felt as though her world was in a constant state of decay (and, completely unknown to all save her subconscious mind, she also felt a bit clingy to Buffy due to the fact that it was her who had saved the world from Jesse…in her mind, she knew that there were more vampires out there, aside from him. But, he was the one that held the most influence in her mind…she identified his death as a horrible event, and what happened to him afterwards even worse, and she found Buffy to be the light that had saved it all…it was a nice way to never mourn, just relocate all feelings of love and closeness to someone else.), she had allowed herself to be completely dependant upon Buffy.

Whereas once, she had been a bright, independently minded girl with no one but herself to answer to, she had become an emotionally crippled girl who felt herself personified through her bestest friend. That was also why she would never work up the nerve to tell her former friend how she felt.

She was afraid of what it would mean to her crutch…and, she also didn't care. She was at war with herself and the side that wanted Xander was losing.



"So," Susannah asked, outside the library later on, "What are we going to do?"

"Why don't we do research first," Timothy stated with a grin, "Find out what some of the mythology books have to say?"

"I mean, are we going to ask Xander about his saving us," Susannah questioned, her mind working in overdrive as it remembered that night.

"What's there to ask," he responded, "He saved us. Do you plan to ask him about why, or if we can help, or how we can repay him? Because, if so, the answers are fairly obvious…because he's a hero, we can, if we want to, and no, we can't."

"I don't know," she said, "I just thought we might find some answers…talk to him."

"What makes you think he'll even be there," Timothy questioned, "He's kinda left his friends behind in the dust."

"…It's where he's usually at," Susannah stated, "Come on."

"Why do you want to talk to him," her cousin asked.

"…I just want to know what else is out there," she said, and she turned, entering the library.



"We need to do something, Giles," Buffy complained to her Watcher, "Xander was acting really distant towards us today."

"Well, what did you expect, Buffy," the Englishman asked, "You push him away, and he just stays around and takes it? No normal human would stand for that."

"But he's **Xander**," she emphasized, "He's supposed to be loyal to us."

"Why," he questioned, "You weren't loyal to him."

"Don't try and act like you're an innocent in this, mister," Willow pointed her finger at him, "You were all for keeping him out before."

"I wanted to talk to him, reason with him," Giles corrected, "And, yes, I did nothing to prevent your keeping him out in your utterly vulgar way…to my shame."

"Giles, this is insane," Buffy stamped her foot down, again, for emphasis, "Go and get him back."

"Why don't you," Giles told her, "You are the one who forced him out."

"He forced **me** to," Buffy said, while wondering, _Why can nobody realize that **I'm** the victim here?_

"Did he point a gun to your head," Giles asked, "All he wanted was to help. When he told you that he'd be leaving if you wouldn't accept that help, it was, ultimately, your decision that-"

He stopped talking, however, as the door opened. Standing inside the doorway were two young people, which he could only assume to be students, but…he had never seen either before.

That made sense…he didn't ever want to see a student…EVER.

"Ugh, can I help you," he called out.

"Yes, is Xander here," the brunette girl asked shyly, "We need to talk to him."

"What," Buffy practically shrieked, "Why! Are you a demon?"

"…Excuse me," the girl demanded, her eyes becoming flinty as she said this, "What did you just say?"

"I asked you if you are a demon," Buffy challenged, while both Willow and Giles groaned.

_One mummy girl and a praying mantis_, Willow thought in disbelief, _And she's got this thing in her head that all women after him are demons needing to be slaughtered! Ethan really made her overprotective of him._

"I am no harlot, if that's what you mean," the girl stated coldly, "Now, is Xander Harris here or not?"

"Ugh, Mr. Harris is not…here…at the moment," Giles interjected swiftly, "We shall let him know that he is being sought. Thank you."

Taking that as their dismissal, the two cousins exited the library. Once outside, they stopped and turned to each other.

"Well, that was interesting," Timothy muttered.

"Demon," Susannah growled, "They thought I was some kind of whore!"

"Ugh, Susannah," Timothy gulped at the look in her eyes, "I think she meant a…real demon."

"…Oh."



Xander watched from the skylight, a frown on his face. So, they had started digging…if they were willing to go that far, farther than any other had ever gone, save **himself**, that meant that they simply were not giving up.

And, eventually, they would go exploring…and, eventually, they would get killed.

"I'm not going to be like her," he muttered grimly, "I'm not going to condemn good people just because they want to know…I just wonder if they'll want to help afterwards."

His mind set, Xander walked back to the ladder and climbed down. Tonight, he would be paying a house-call to one Timothy Felder.


	4. Chapter 4

The Confessional

Timeline: Season 2, 'The Dark Ages'

Disclaimer: don't own. Just using for a fanfiction. Belongs to M.E.



Timothy watched from underneath his mask as the small ray of ultra-hot flame began to weld the last bit of metal together. This would be one of his finest masterpieces yet, a rarity amongst all vehicles. As he had always been, and would hopefully always be, he was a creator. He held a poetic soul that would always be searching for new and better things…it was his father who had managed to make him manipulate this gift into something…that he called 'pure masculinity.' Babes, motorcycles, and muscles were what his good old dad had been about growing up and, thanks to him, Timothy wasn't different…just in the way he gained these things.

For him, women were more than just a prize. His father would often brag about how many women he'd laid back in his day, but, Timothy had, as of yet, not even Frenched a girl. That was purely by choice, too. For him, women were a rare form of art. They deserved to be treated well and admired, not pursued for a trophy to hang on a wall. This was something that drew many older women to him, ones who had been through people like his father. It was nice to be with someone he enjoyed and who enjoyed him, and he always went out of his way to make their time the best for them. The only reason why he hadn't been past first base was because he hadn't found the right girl. That was OK…he could wait.

Motorcycles and cars, on the other hand, were things that he never waited to work on. He considered it another art form, one that was sung only through money, these days. He wanted to turn an automobile into a work of art, to recreate the whole image of the vehicle. These days, people wanted technology and, while Timothy admitted it was important, he felt that a car held so much more **life** in it, and he was determined to let it out.

Muscles…well, he worked on cars most of the day and night. That was self-explanatory.

In short, he was his dad's dream son…just, with a deeper side to him. Fortunately, all his dad saw was the work in the cars and the attractiveness of the women he would bring home.

He put his torch aside and came out from underneath the frame, satisfied in the work he had put into this section of his vehicle. He took his gloves off and set them upon the nearby desk, just in any place that would hold them. He had no difficulty in finding things when he put them in different places. He actually enjoyed getting things from new places, it offered up the opportunity to find new things when you least expected it.

"Tim," he winced automatically as his father shouted out for him, he never ever once listened to him about his name, "Some kid's at the door for you!"

"Who is it," he shouted back, knowing that it couldn't be Susannah…she never had to be announced.

"…Some kid named Xander," he felt his insides turn cold upon hearing the name of his rescuer.

Here, Timothy was at a dilemma. He hoped that Xander Harris was at his house to tell him what was going on or to warn him off (not that it would stop Susannah) but, he also wondered if Xander was capable of more…sinister things. Just because he'd saved their lives didn't mean that he wouldn't kill someone who got in his way.

He might be at his house looking to eliminate a problem.

"…Send him in," he called back, grabbing a screwdriver and placing it inside of his belt loop as he did so. The odds were that Xander was a better fighter than he…Hell, he had to be. But, even so, Timothy had no intentions on going down without a fight.

The fight would last about five seconds but, he'd go to his grave knowing that he'd tried.

He kept his eyes trailed on the door, knowing that that was where he would come in at. As he waited, he took a seat and began to wipe his hands with a cloth, positioning the seat in a way that would give him a complete view of the door. That way, he could see Xander come in and have a good reason why.

The brass knob turned slowly, and Timothy forced himself to remain calm. For some reason, this whole circumstance was frightening to him. It was like…a part of him knew that his life may never be the same, and that if Xander did come through that door, it **would** never be the same.

He sorta wanted that door to remain closed. However, fate decided against his wish and allowed Xander Harris entry into his garage.



Xander entered the building cautiously, sensing nervousness all throughout the air as he did so. As he entered, he noticed that Timothy was sitting on a stool, wiping his hands…his entire posture was tense, and there was a screwdriver in his pants loop.

_He thinks I'm here to shut him up_, he thought to himself, _Yeah, like I'd kill him for being curious._

"Hey, Timothy," he greeted the young man.

"Good evening," the mechanic greeted him curtly, "To what do I owe-"

"OK, let's stop right there," he held his hand up quickly and he noted that Timothy had already begun reaching for his screwdriver…good, "You know what this is about."

Timothy remained as he was, but said, "Yes."

"Good," he took a calming breath, hoping that it would help to diffuse the situation, and said, "I'm here to tell you everything."

Timothy was clearly surprised, for his entire body had gone slack and his arm had fallen from its place.

"…What," he asked, his eyes wide in confusion.

"Did you think I was here to kill you," he half-joked and, upon seeing Timothy turn his gaze downward, "…You did, didn't you?"

"Yeah," the young man answered as he stood up, "I did. I think…it was less to do with you and more to do with what's going to happen in a few moments."

"…You were afraid," Xander said with a grim smile, "Your mind started playing with you, made you think things that you usually wouldn't even suspect. Although, to be fair, you did have a good reason to think that…I could kill you for trying to find out, if it were a classified occurrence but, it's not so, I'm not."

"What, are you a commando or something," Timothy asked with a smile and, when Xander didn't answer immediately, that smile became a frown, "…You are, aren't you?"

The young warrior sighed aloud and motioned for Timothy to sit, while he grabbed a small beach chair and took a seat inside it. Once both teens were situated, Xander took a deep breath to steady himself and began his rehearsed speech.

"What you have in front of you right now," he said, "Is a choice. You can choose to listen to what I have to say and accept it as it is, either through your own intellect or through experience…or, you can choose to tell me to go to Hell and continue to live in the world as you know it. Fair warning…once you find out, you will never, and I mean **never ever** be able to go back. You can try but, I guarantee you will die. What you do with this knowledge is entirely up to you but, you still can't ignore what's out there. You'd have to prepare…or, you can stay in the dark, on the inside looking in.

"It's your choice."

Timothy took a deep breath. This was the very thing that he had been warring with himself over and, now that he was faced with the choice…he wasn't really sure what to say…or do.

"Susannah would want to be here," he said, stalling for time.

"She will be offered this same opportunity, as well," Xander told him, "Now, make your choice."

Timothy thought long and hard for several minutes, weighing all his options. If he were to listen to what Xander had to say…his life would be turned upside down, of that he had no doubt. If he didn't, though, he would forever be lost in doubt and fear over what he doesn't know.

In the end, the choice had always been right in front of him…he'd just been blinded by fear to realize it.

"I want to know."

Xander sighed, grateful and, at the same time, worried.

"Alright," he said, "It all began with the beginning of the world…"



A half-hour later, Susannah drove out of the hospital like a maniac…Timothy had called her, his voice shaky and filled with worry, and told her that Xander Harris was there, and he was waiting on her.

Needless to say, she was willing to break every traffic law there was just to find out what he had to say.


	5. Chapter 5

The Admission

Timeline: Season 2, 'The Dark Ages'

Disclaimer: don't own. Just using for a fanfiction. Belongs to M.E.



Xander sat inside of Timothy's workshop, where he was constantly at work, designing either a new vehicle or some other piece of equipment. Tonight, however, the young metalworker was not working…if anything, he was trying to resist the temptation to go and raid his old man's liquor cabinet, though, if anything, that would make him proud of Timothy…he'd asked him more than once to have a drink but, the deep teenager had refused.

Tonight, however, threatened to become the night when he sipped his first bit of alcohol. Hearing about…vampires…demons…magic…as though it were a common occurrence, something to be bested…it was…well, frightening, obviously. Yet, there was a part of him that knew, simply **knew**, it to be so. And, yet, the part that was screaming at him that it couldn't be was so loud that…he often found himself believing that Xander was a liar.

"…So," he turned his head to see the demon hunter looking at him, the same discomfort on his features equal to, if not, surpassing his own, "Just what all do you…do in here, Timothy?"

The teen sighed in relief as he realized what the young man was offering him…a chance to take his mind off of what he had just told him. He was grateful in so many ways.

"It's my workshop," Timothy began, "Where I design and build anything from vehicles to swords."

"…You can do all that in this place," Xander said, looking around the shop. Its metallic walls were covered with different tools, each one more complicated looking that the last. The desks were equally covered in tools and schematics. It was obvious that Timothy wasn't very organized, at least. There were also two veiled pieces inside the shop, along with the metallic frame that he had been working on before Xander's arrival. One was small, most likely a motorcycle of some kind, while the other was much larger, with a bed in the back. A truck of some kind, probably.

"My father runs an auto shop," Timothy explained, "He lets me work on my own stuff in here."

"He sounds like a good guy," Xander said, "Wish my own dad'd do things with me."

"…I'd rather he didn't," that caused Xander to look at him in disbelief but, Timothy decided not to share more. He wasn't sure if he totally trusted him yet and, until he was, he wasn't going to tell him more than he already had.

Xander sighed, realizing that Timothy had no intention on giving him any more information. He could respect that and, more or less, commended him for it. He settled in for a wait, knowing that it wouldn't take Susannah much longer to get there.

He abruptly looked up as he heard a car park just outside the workshop, followed by a series of fast footsteps, almost breaking out into a full run as Susannah, he presumed, came to the shop. The door opened swiftly, revealing Susannah Shari, dressed inside her dark nurses uniform still, sweating from her rush to arrive. She stopped as she entered the shop, seemingly still trying to process what was occurring, before she caught sight of Xander. Then, she stampeded over to him and only came to a stop once they were less than two inches apart.

"…Hi," Xander squeaked out, scared of the intense look that she was giving him.

"Skip the speech," she snarled out, "I want to know what's going on, and I want to know now!"

"…OK," Xander muttered, "Would you mind…like…getting out of my face?"

She glared at him one last time, but did as he asked. Xander let out a breath that he hadn't known he was holding in as she backed away. He took another breath to help calm his nerves and licked his lips, thinking about how he should start.

"…Have you ever lost anyone because of them having their throats torn out," she shook her head, she was one of the lucky ones, "…Do you believe in vampires?"



Buffy Summers walked dejectedly through the graveyard, her thoughts still wrapped up in the events of late, most of them involving Xander. She was still focused on getting him back into their group but, it was nothing more than a severe case of guilt. Though, to her, it was because she missed him. She wanted things to go her way, she wanted him to be her friend and to keep out of the slaying. Instead, that jerk had decided that if he couldn't slay, then he wouldn't be her friend. Typical Xander, always thinking of himself.

She looked to her left sharply, having heard something, and sighed with relief as she saw her boyfriend.

"Angel," she said in the tone that she reserved especially for him, "Hey."

"Evening, Buffy," Angel said, his brooding look ever present, "Out hunting?"

"Trying to find something to lighten my mood," she said with a sigh, "Ugh, why do men have to be such jerks, present company excluded, of course."

"Of course," Angel said, "I'm guessing this is because of Xander?"

She nodded and said, "That dork couldn't slay worth anything and he decides that he won't be my friend if he can't. He wonders why I kept him out. It was for his own good. Why can't he just understand that?"

"He thinks of this all as some kind of adventure," Angel really wasn't a bad guy, he just…wasn't grown up yet. He still had more of a child's mentality, thinking that hiding in dark allies and speaking cryptic was cool. And he really did believe that Xander was less mature than him, that he really did think of this all as an adventure, while Angel believed that he knew different. In reality, it was the other way around.

"Well, it's not," she said with a sigh, "People die, real people die, and he could easily become one of them," _Not me, though_, she thought to herself, _I'm the Slayer. Nothing's going to kill me, or Angel, or Giles, but…Willow and Xander, they may die. They're normal. They can still die._

_And I won't let that happen._



"…Why did you want to know this so badly," Xander asked Susannah as she sat beside her cousin, wrapping her mind over all that Xander had told her.

"…I don't know," she told him and, even if he didn't have his military training, he would have known it was a lie.

"Quit lying," he told her, "You have a purpose, and I want to know what that purpose is. Now, if you don't tell me, then I will make sure that you never have the opportunity to use this knowledge in any way, shape, or form," he said, his tone and his glare making it clear that he was willing to back up his threat.

She sighed, her face darkening as she seemed to space out for a moment. She closed her eyes and took in an incredibly deep breath, before opening them back up and glaring at him. Still, he could tell that she was willing to speak.

"…Do you remember Halloween," she began, "With all those riots and the gang war?"

He nodded. That was what the police called it, even though he knew it was something completely different.

"Well, it was something completely different," she said to him, "Something worse."

"…What did you go as," he asked, "Or, what did you turn into?"

She stared at him for a moment, then sighed, and said, "A naughty nurse."

He felt his eyes open up and his mouth go slack. He also saw Timothy do the same. Neither had really suspected that.

"I was going to a party," she explained, "I'd gotten the outfit from the back at Ethan's. When it happened…I wasn't in control anymore. A lot of the other people at the party had gotten costumes from other places so, I was one of the only ones affected. Suddenly…" her whole face went red as she remembered, "I was someone else. I begged, pleaded, and…"

"They took advantage," Xander stated, understanding.

"…I was passed around by so many guys, I don't think I can ever look at a guy like that again," she said, a single tear coming down her face, and Timothy immediately wrapped an arm around her, and she leaned into him, the two cousins working together to support her, "…And the worst thing is…she enjoyed it!"

Xander nodded. His mom, according to one argument between her and his dad, had ended up pregnant in the same way. That led him to wonder if he really was his father's son, which was one of the many reasons why he hadn't killed his father…yet.

"And, since you were still a nurse, you got all the inherent skills of one, right," Xander asked her, and she nodded. She had obviously been keeping that in for a long time. This all made more sense now. She had left her old friends because of the nurse's actions, and because they probably ridiculed her for doing that.

He sighed once more and decided that he would try and help her through her pain, if he could. After all, he was going through it, maybe worse, maybe less than her. Either way, they were in the same boat.


	6. Chapter 6

The Collapse

Timeline: Season 2, 'The Dark Ages'

Disclaimer: don't own. Just using for a fanfiction. Belongs to M.E.



Xander watched from afar as Timothy continued to consol his cousin. He respected the man for doing everything he could for his cousin, but, there would be time for that later. Right now, there was something incredibly important that they had to discuss, and they had to discuss it immediately.

"Susannah," he said, gently, getting her attention, "Timothy…we need to talk."

His tone and the graveness in his face got their attention quickly…they could tell that he was being serious, extremely so. They were, he could tell, sorta scared.

Good.

"I need to know," he started, "Now that you know this…what do you plan to do?"

That caught them off guard. They had been far too wrapped up in just coming to terms with what they now knew to even wonder what to do now. They stared at him for a moment…and continued to stare a moment later. They really had no idea what they would do, or what they wanted to do. He knew, though, that that wasn't exactly true. They must have wondered, maybe even talked about it, but…that wasn't the same. To be suddenly asked to come to a decision…to finally be put in that position…it would catch anyone off guard.

One answer he knew already…it was a natural human impulse to go out and destroy the thing that had done something to you. To her, it was the fault of the human kids…but, it was more the fault of the nurse…and the nurse would never have been there if it weren't for magic.

Sure enough…

"I want in," Susannah stated earnestly, "I know that something did that to me…and I want to make it pay."

"Well, it is already gone," Xander said to her, "Though, it may come back."

Timothy, on the other hand, was a wildcard. He, most likely of the two, had questioned what they would do if they discovered the truth. He was a deep individual, a poet…few poets turned to violence, unless they were jealous or troubled, and Timothy had a reputation for being neither.

On the other hand, he could be very protective of his cousin now…and decide to go out and ensure that nothing like it ever happened again. It all depended on how he wanted to go from there.

"…I need some time to think," Timothy said, quietly, "…I'm a poet…a creator…I don't kill things."

Xander nodded, respecting his opinion. He knew, however, that if Timothy ended up getting attacked, that that kind of attitude would end up getting him killed. He resolved immediately to keep an eye on this guy, just in order to make sure that he would survive.

But, that left him with little or no time to help Susannah…but, there was someone else that he knew that could help her, probably even better than he.

"…I understand," he told Timothy, "Take all the time you need. And, if you do choose to join the war, I will teach you. Susannah, I will do the same with you…and, I want to get a friend of mine to help you…with your permission."

She tensed up, obviously nervous about agreeing to that.

"She's completely trustworthy," he said to her, "She's actually a teacher at school…she's the computer science teacher."

"Miss Calendar," she asked and, at his nod, smiled and said, "I trust her. She's one of the few teachers at that school that I do trust."

"…You're an excellent judge of character," he told her, standing up as he did so, "Would it be alright if I come by around eight tomorrow, Timothy?"

"Why," he asked immediately.

"Because, if you choose to not participate, I want you to know what to look out for," Xander stated.

The young man looked down at the floor, thinking…and, after a long moment, nodded.

"Thank you," with that, he took his leave.



Jennifer Calendar looked up as she heard someone knock on her door, early the next morning…she resisted the urge to scowl as she did so, believing it was Rupert coming in an attempt to get back in her graces.

Instead, it was a young man that she knew barely, but, considered as a good man.

"Xander," she greeted the student, "Good morning. How can I help you?"

"…Do you remember last Halloween," Xander asked her.

"Yes, when everyone turned into their costumes," she said, remembering hearing Rupert explain to her what had happened.

"Well," he sighed for a moment, then, continued on, "There's this girl who was dressed in one of the affected costumes…as a naughty nurse. She was at a party."

Jenny looked away, considering the meaning of his words. It was clear what had happened.

"I'm sorry," she told him, "But…what do you want me to do?"

"Help her," Xander said, "She needs help. She's been…trying to get what she could out of the experience, using the nurse's training to gain a career. But, that isn't enough; she needs help."

"Why not go to Giles," she asked, "He'd be much better for this job."

"…They didn't tell you," he asked.



Rupert tuned Buffy out as she went into another rant about 'How great I am, How great Angel is, How sucky Xander is.' He was really beginning to hate Xander now. Before, she had been like a surrogate daughter to him…now, she wouldn't shut up about those three subjects. He was severely disappointed in her and, in fact, applauded Xander on what he did…that didn't mean he was appreciative of now being the main person to receive her rants.

That changed, however, when he heard the door open. He turned his eyes upon it and…smiled as he saw Jenny walking in. That smile turned to a frown, however, as he caught her infuriated look. He stood up, intending on finding out what had made her so mad, when he went back down into his seat, his cheek stinging from where her opened hand had slapped him.

"Hey," Buffy shouted, not liking the teacher hitting her Watcher, "What do you think you're-"

She was silenced, however, as she, too, felt the furious sting of the techno pagan's hand. Jenny glared at her, daring her to talk again, and the Slayer, in an act of self-preservation, wisely kept her mouth shut. Jenny glared at her once more, then, turned her full attention back to Giles, her eyes alit with flame.

"You incompetent hack," she screeched at him, "How dare you? How can you even look yourself in the mirror after what you did?"

"I beg your pardon," Giles asked, stalling for time to get back on the horse, as it were.

"Don't play coy with me, England," she snarled, "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Xander deserved better than that, and you know it, too!"

Buffy's look of shock turned to one of anger. She was so sick and tired of it always being 'Xander was wronged, Xander was hurt,' when it was her who was the one being wronged. She took in a breath and prepared for her assault.

"AND, YOU," her nerve was broken, however, as Jenny released her full fury on her, "HOW DARE YOU DO THAT TO XANDER. HE WAS YOUR BEST FRIEND, BUFFY! YOUR BEST FRIEND! ARE YOU HUMAN, DO YOU HAVE FEELINGS! HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY EVEN CONSIDER DOING THAT! SO WHAT IF HE DOESN'T HAVE POWERS. SO WHAT IF HE ISN'T AS GOOD A FIGHTER AS A SUPERPOWERED BITCH, OR AN EGOTISTICAL VAMPIRE, OR A STUPID WATCHER! HE STILL FOUGHT, HE STILL SURVIVED, HE SAVED YOUR OWN LIFE, FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

For good measure, Jenny slapped her again. This time, she had a new member of her audience in the form of a redhead.

"What's going on here-" Willow started, only to be caught off guard as she was also slapped in the face.

"AND, YOU!" Jenny snarled, "HIS SUPPOSED-BEST-FRIEND! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO HIM! YOU KNEW EACH OTHER SINCE FIRST GRADE, AT LEAST! DO YOU HAVE A SOUL! DO YOU STILL THINK YOU'RE HIS WILLOW? LET ME TELL YOU THIS, YOU HORRIBLE BITCH…YOU'RE NOTHING TO HIM, NOT ANYMORE!"

Willow started to cry as she thought about Jenny's words…and, more importantly, the fact that she was right.

Jenny sighed and took a deep breath, intending on using every fiber of her energy on him. She walked over to Rupert and stared him in the eye and, even though he maintained an English façade, she could tell that he was embarrassed and sorrowful.

"…I want you to know that this is the most demeaning thing you could have done to him," she told him, "You let these two bully him out of this, and you knew what it meant to him. You had to have. I want you, Rupert, to remember what you did…and to know that you will never get forgiveness. You became his father figure, Rupert…and you betrayed him."

She glared at him, turned, and walked over to the doorway. As she did so, she uttered these words.

"You're a fool…you're all fools."


	7. Chapter 7

The Mechanics

Timeline: Season 2, 'The Dark Ages'

Disclaimer: don't own. Just using for a fanfiction. Belongs to M.E.



Timothy sighed as he began to work on his beautiful machines, each one of them just as important as the last. He wished that the problems of the real world were as fixable as the problems of an automobile. He wished that he could simply open his cousin up, find the right screw to tighten or connection to fix, and solve all the problems she had in one single motion. Instead, she was complex, much more than a simple maneuver was needed to fix her problems. It would take time, like all things would.

He leaned back on his stool and flipped his mask down, preparing to start welding the frame together where it had broken, only to be stopped as he heard someone knock on his door. He flipped the mask open and stared into the brown eyes of a person that he had formerly only seen…a person who, as it turned out, was a man with a cause greater than he could have ever fathomed.

"Hey, Xander," he felt strange, saying his name like a friend, but, he supposed that was what they were becoming…friends. That was the least of what they would become, he felt, considering that they were brothers in a secret older than humankind.

"Timothy," the stranger returned the greeting with a smile, "What're you working on?"

Timothy smiled as he felt himself moving into familiar territory.

"This," he said, "Is a Charger frame I've been working on for a while now. I got it off a junk dealer friend of my dad's, in pretty good condition. The problem is that I've found a few cracks, some of which have been expanding without my noticing. I'm going over it today and fixing them."

"Mind if I give you a hand," Xander asked, "I took a welding course my freshman year, and I remember quite a bit of it from…well, the old days," he said, not wishing to get into it.

Timothy nodded and motioned to his second torch and mask.

"Start on the other side," he said, "Let me know when you find one, though; I want to know so that I can be on the lookout."

"Will do," Xander said and he donned his own mask and began going through the future Charger.



About an hour later, and they were done with the welding. There were only a few breaks to be fixed, so, not much work needed to be done, especially with two people working together on it. As they put the torches away, they both took a seat and got a drink.

"I'm going to start checking around the dealers and the junkyards," Timothy said, sipping on his cola, "I'll get whatever Charger equipment I can find, at whatever prices I can afford. That's the stumbling block in the road."

Xander nodded in understanding, took a long gulp of his drink, then, abruptly stood up and grabbed his jacket.

"You leaving already," Timothy asked.

"Nope," he tossed the mechanic his own jacket, "We are. You let me help you with your stuff, now, I'm helping you with something of mine."

"What," Timothy asked aloud.

Xander fixed him with a piercing gaze and said, "You don't know what's out there. You may think you know now, but, trust me…till you see it, you have no idea. Now, do you have an extra bike?"

Timothy nodded, "Dad gave me two of his that he didn't want to keep anymore. Why…oh, no, you are NOT driving one of those."

"Well, I'm not riding on the back of yours," Xander countered, "And you ARE learning this…you may die if you don't."

Timothy sighed, realizing that Xander had him beat. He may not be certain as to whether or not he wanted to actually fight yet, but, he did want to know how to survive. He nodded his head in conformity and guided Xander over to his cycles. He mounted the black one, his favorite one, while Xander mounted the red one. He easily got it started after putting the helmet on and, as soon as the doors were open, took off into the night, with Timothy not too far behind.



Xander launched a devastating blow into the vampire, sending it down to the ground. He followed up with a swift strike to the heart, effectively ending the creature's unlife.

Nearby, Timothy stared at him in shock. He had heard Xander's stories, and seen some pretty freaky things in town, but…he had never been this close to them. It really put things in perspective.

"That was a rudimentary patrol," Xander started saying as he put his stake away and marked the kill in his book, "I've got a few ideas for other items. I thought about using stun grenades but, I don't know how well they'd work on vampires. I'd have to test them out. Plus, I have this idea for a grenade that only displaces shrapnel. If I can get it blessed, then any vamps around would be prime targets. Only problem is that the shrapnel could hit us, too."

"We could design some sort of machine gun with stakes," Timothy muttered, lost in the idea of weaponry for vampires, "Or maybe we could get a hold of some fire department hoses, and get a few tanks of holy water."

"That harms the enemy, sure," Xander said, "But, it doesn't destroy the enemy. These aren't guys we can leave alive. We have to kill them, permanently."

"Still, the stake-gun sounds like a good idea," Timothy said, "Maybe acid…acid could melt them away before they even get a chance to run."

"That's…not a bad idea," Xander said, "But, we'd have to experiment first."

Xander sighed motioned for Timothy to follow him, and the young mechanic did so.

"That's why I need you in this, Timothy," he said as the two walked to the bikes, "You're not a fighter…I respect that. But, we need a mechanic in our group. We need an engineer. You're involved and, as much as it kills me to say it…you're never going to be able to escape this.

"I need your help."

Timothy sighed and said, "I don't like creating weapons for war."

"You didn't mind a minute ago," the welder nodded, he did have him there, "You can make all the difference in this war, my friend. We need you…your cousin needs you."

Timothy sighed once more.



Susannah said one last thank you to Miss Calendar as she exited the woman's vehicle. The teacher had been kind enough to offer her a ride home, and she had accepted. She smiled as she walked up the lane to her house, feeling more elated now than ever before. She had had a wonderful time talking to Miss Calendar, even though it was about a horrible subject…the woman just made her so comfortable.

She was thankful to have spoken to her.



Xander walked down the sidewalk, thinking to himself. Timothy had said that he would help them with the artillery, but with the artillery only…that worried Xander.

If the enemy found out where they got their supplies from, they could easily launch a raid and, if Timothy weren't ready to defend himself…he would die.

It was just one of the problems that he was encountering with this new group he was founding. He hadn't meant to go out and found his own version of the Scooby Gang, but…here he was, organizing a new division. He even had a medic and an artillery factory. The more Xander thought about it, the more it became clear to him…he was building up a small army, one with the intent of fighting what was in the night.

One thing was painfully clear…he needed new recruits. He couldn't fight them on his own, not unless he went back to the way he had gone before. And, even if he did, he still left Timothy and Susannah in a horrible position…and he would not abandon anyone…ever.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the night. He saddled that issue to the back of his mind, loosed his stake, and charged off into the darkness.

Several hundred yards to the east, a blonde Slayer had heard the same call, and was also racing to aid the one in danger.


	8. Chapter 8

Antagonism

Timeline: Season 2, 'The Dark Ages'

Disclaimer: don't own. Just using for a fanfiction. Belongs to M.E.



Xander jumped into the glade with no thoughts of his own safety, only those of saving whoever had screamed. Those thoughts, too, were suspended upon entering the glade.

There were six vampires there, in total, along with one human girl. Five of the vampires had surrounded the girl. The odd thing, though, was that they were not attacking her. They were standing there, trying to find an entry past her guard. Ordinarily, five vampires only had such troubles from the Slayer, but…even the Slayer didn't use a sword on her patrols.

The girl was armed with a bastard sword, and was dressed in gray armor. It wasn't complete, however; she only had the chest plate and gauntlets for her arms, but the rest of her was covered in chain mail, which did a great job of covering her neck from any…unwanted intruders. She used her weapon with great skill, greater than he even suspected Buffy could muster.

A pitiful cry alerted him to the sixth vampire. It was a female vampire, dressed inside of clothes that looked to be older than Al Capone. She was clutching her hand to her heart, blood spewing from the wound that resulted from her hand being chopped off. Xander dispatched her with ease, more as an act of mercy to end her cries, then joined in the fray.

He stealthily dispatched another unaware vampire, using one hand to keep its mouth shut while he stuck the stake into its back, easily piercing the heart. His kill, however, did not go unnoticed.

"Kill them both," one of the vamps roared, and another vamp charged into him, only to disintegrate instantly as its body was pierced by a wooden stake.

"Don't start the fun without me," _Oh, Great_, he thought as Buffy the Vampire Slayer joined in the fight, _Just what we need…a showboat._

Xander sucked it up, realizing that, for the moment, the two were allies, and rejoined the fight. Buffy had already commenced fighting with another vamp, one that appeared to be a former martial artist, while the sword-girl was trying to take care of another one that had, apparently, been a dancer (he recognized a few moves the guy was bringing from a dance routine Willow had made him watch once). The third, and final one, was a fledgling, having just risen recently (he was judging from the dirty suit) and he was running at Xander.

The teenager dodged to his left, leaving a foot in place to trip the oncoming vampire up, and the fledgling fell to the ground in a heap. Xander kicked it in the shin a few times, then came to his knees and raised his stake, but the vampire kicked him in the stomach as he did so. In response, Xander rammed his fist into the vamp's jaw, sending it down to the ground. Xander jumped up and straddled the vamp, insuring that it could not escape him again.

He plunged his stake down, only to have it interrupted as his hand entered a vice-like grip. The force wrapped around his arm and hauled him off the vamp and, before he even hit the ground, he knew what had happened…so, it was no surprise when Buffy came to him in her patented 'I, Slayer…You, Bitch' stance.

"What the Hell were you thinking," he ignored her and came to his feet, watching as the armed girl took off the last vampire's head, "Were you thinking? What in God's name made you just leap into a fight like that?"

"What the Hell do you think, Slayer," he roared back, "I hear a scream, I go and check the situation and, finding a fight, I help out. Simple."

"Simple," she yelled, apparently beside herself, "You think you can just leap into any fight now, don't you! You think you're so special, don't you, Xander?"

"Excuse me," a feminine voice interrupted her, "Would either of you mind explaining yourselves?"

The two turned and faced the business end of a sword, held unwaveringly in the girl's hand, pointed between the two of them, making it clear that she assumed they were both a potential threat but, that she was also willing to wait before making the plunge.

Buffy, unfortunately, just saw the sword and automatically made the jump. She reached out and swiftly disarmed the girl, so fast that he didn't even catch a glimpse of it.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," Buffy said, pointing the girl's own sword back at her, "If anyone should be explaining themselves, it's you two," she looked back at Xander for that bit, "Now…what were you doing out here?"

"Walking home," Xander told her, "I heard the battle, then joined in."

"I was patrolling," the girl stated with a grimace, obviously uncomfortable having her weapon inside of another's hand, "Can I have my sword back, please?"

"Is she one of your friends, Xander," she asked snidely.

"No," he answered, "Buffy, for God's sake, give her back her weapon."

She stared at him for a second, before flipping the sword around and handing it out to the girl, who jerked it out of her hand, not caring whether the blade cut her or not.

"Who are you two," she demanded.

"Xander Harris, local vamp hunter," he responded, "And, she's Buffy Summers, Vampire Slayer. And you?"

"…Samantha," she introduced herself, "Slayer? What is that?"

"A mystically empowered girl destined to slay vamps," he responded, much to the ire of the present Slayer.

"And a bitch to boot," Samantha muttered, "Why did you knock him off that vamp? He was about to kill it!"

"He's normal, he shouldn't be doing this," she said, "And neither should you!"

"…Did she just tell me that I shouldn't be slaying vampires," Samantha asked him.

"She does that a lot," he answered, "You should see what she put me through."

"It was for your own good," the Slayer yelled, "And you were the one who quit."

"I quit because you couldn't accept the fact that I have the right to fight in this war," he countered, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really don't feel like dredging up ancient history," he turned away from her.

"Don't you walk away from me," she shouted.

"Oh, shut up," Samantha told her as she walked past her, "Hey, ugh, Xander, wait up."

"Where do you think you're going," the Slayer shouted.

"To find out what this guy's all about," she said, climbing up and out of the glade, "He seems to have his shit together, whereas you're just a whiney little bitch."

Xander, who was waiting for her outside the glade, thought: _Wow…met her for less than thirteen seconds and already came to the same conclusion it took me over a year to come to._

"What's up," he asked her.

"So, you hunt vamps," she asked, "Me, too."

"What's your story," he asked.

"I was raised by a swordsman," she said, "One night, my father didn't come home. I went out to find him and, when I did…" she trailed off, her eyes filling with tears.

"He was worse than dead," it wasn't a question.

"He was…turned," she muttered, "I barely made it out. When I got home, he had called already…Mom had invited him in, over the phone. It wasn't safe. I tried to get her out, but…she didn't believe me, thought I'd gone crazy.

"He killed her," she whispered, tears freely flowing down her cheeks, "I managed to get to the neighbors before he could get me…ever since then, I've been hunting them…trying to find him."

"You want vengeance," he asked, and she nodded in response, "I understand."

"No offense, but…I don't think you do," she was right, and he didn't say anything about it.

"…If you want, I'll take you home," he offered.

"Sure," she said, "We can compare notes."

As the two walked away, an irate Slayer watched with no small feeling of impotence. She growled slightly and turned away, intending on finishing her patrol.



Samantha Burke stood upon her aunt's front porch, with Xander standing close by. She was thankful that he had come around, she had never taken on six vampires at once. Backup was something she was sorely lacking.

"Say, Samantha," he beseeched her.

"Call me Sam," she asked, brushing some of her long, red hair out of her face, "All my friends do."

"OK, Sam," he obliged, "Do you have anyone else working with you?"

"Nope," she admitted, "Why? Wanna form a partnership?"

"Actually, I'm pulling together a group," he told her, "I've got two other people, and a possible third. I'd like you to join up."

"…Who all do you have," she asked him.

"I won't give names, but, there's me, a nurse, an engineer who'll help us make weapons, a mage, and, if you join, a swordswoman."

"…I'll think about it," she told him.

"Here's my phone number," he handed her a slip of paper with his number on it, "Ask for Xander."

"…Thanks…for everything," she said.

He nodded and walked off into the night.


	9. Chapter 9

Interrogation

Timeline: Season 2, 'The Dark Ages'

Disclaimer: don't own. Just using for a fanfiction. Belongs to M.E.



"I think he's working with people," Buffy the Vampire Slayer said to her Watcher and her friend the next morning after regaling them with the events of the previous night.

"Buffy, from your own words, that girl has never worked with him before," Giles stated, "What makes you think he's working with someone?"

"It's just a feeling," she admitted, it was thin but, not as thin as they were making it out to be. Her intuition was telling her that her former friend was working with someone…but, who, she had no idea, "But, Giles, you know he shouldn't be out there. Come on, you've gotta help me get him back. If we can get him to come back, then we can get him to stop going out there."

"The odds are that you are right, Buffy," the Englishman regarded, "But, that is all dependant upon convincing Xander to join the fold, and you know he will not do that unless you two," he indicated Buffy and Willow with his fingers, "Agree to him patrolling with us. And just judging by the look in your eyes, I'm guessing that won't happen anytime soon," Buffy nodded angrily, realizing that Giles was right, "Then, I'm afraid that Xander will not be joining with us anytime soon. I doubt anything short of an apocalypse will bring him back."

Buffy sagged at that, realizing that Giles was one hundred percent correct in his estimate.

_Dumb, stupid Xander_, she thought to herself, _Why can't he see that I was doing it for his own good?_

Willow, meanwhile, had taken Giles's message in a different way.



"Hey, Miss Calendar," Xander greeted his favorite teacher as he came in early that morning, "How did…you know…"

"…She's a very troubled girl, Xander," Jenny said to the young man with a sigh, "She's been through quite a lot. I'm still amazed to think that she managed to find anything to gain out of it. She's resourceful, I'll give her that much, but…we've got a long way to go before she gets better."

"…I heard about a little fight in the library," he grinned at her, and she blushed slightly, not having been aware that the events of that day had circulated throughout the school, "Slapping all of them, twice? I appreciate the thought, but, don't you think that's a little too dramatic?"

"I didn't slap them all twice," she paused, recounting the events, before nodding and saying, "I didn't. I slapped Buffy twice. Once for me, and once for you."

"In that case," he silently clapped, "Applause, applause. Still…I know it probably ruined most chances you had with G-Man," he ordinarily wasn't one to get involved with Giles's relationship but, he felt that he owed it to his past father-figure to stick his neck out for him, "But…don't throw that away for me. You two have something special…no matter how much I'd love to see them get pain, he doesn't deserve to lose you."

Jennifer stared at the young man, not really knowing what to say to that. It was so…odd, getting relationship advice from a child…or, to be fair, a young adult. Still, his words spoke to her…she hadn't been thinking about their relationship…she'd been too worried about dealing with Susannah and Xander's issues to even think about hers and Rupert's relationship.

She would have to think about that.



That night, Willow had checked out several very dangerous books from Giles's collection, without his prior and, hopefully, without his future knowledge. She had, in her own opinion, gone far beyond the point of desperation.

She was still in love with him and, even though she couldn't stand up to Buffy, she could find a way around her.

"Ah," she said as she came to the chapter she'd wanted, "'Hallucinations.'"



"Ah, Xander," Timothy greeted his somewhat friend as he entered the shop, "Good. I've come up with a few ideas that I think you'd appreciate."

"Let's hear them," Xander took a seat on a bucket and motioned for him to continue.

"Wait," a voice to the back called, and Susannah walked into the shop with a smile, "Don't start without me."

"Hey, Susannah," Timothy greeted his cousin, "Have a seat."

"Ooh," Xander interrupted, an idea popping into my head, "Would you mind if I invited someone else to this little meeting?"

"Who," Susannah asked.

"A girl named Samantha Burke," he explained, "I ran into her last night. She hunts, like me."

"…How do you know she's trustworthy," Timothy asked, equally suspicious as Susannah.

"Her father was turned," he stated.

"…Call her up."



Drusilla smiled as she listened to the stars. They spoke of such wicked, horrible things, things that made her flesh crawl with pleasure. The stars spoke of violence, death, chaos…the things that made her nightmares such fun.

Only, now…there was something new…a new threat was present, and it was demanding all her attention…well, half of it, anyway.

"Spike," she called her pet to her, and he came running.

"What is it, my sweet," he asked.

"They're going to ruin it all," she told him, "The kitten, the mechanic, the naughty nurse, and the maiden. They're going to ruin it all."

"Naughty nurse," Spike focused primarily on that part, "You wanna play dress up?"

"Later, dearest," she cooed, "Spike…bring me the boy's head on a platter."

"Boy," Spike wondered aloud, "What boy?"

"The one whom the Angel-beast tried to feed to you," Drusilla said, "Send him away…"

The message finally got through to the platinum vampire, who smiled and said, "Right. Anything for you, ducks."

He left her for a moment and ordered his vampires to attack the boy in the Slayer's group, and they set forward to their task.



"Thanks for inviting me, Xander," Samantha thanked her newly found friend as she sat down beside him.

She was dressed in her ritualistic armor, along with her long sword sheathed loosely to her side. She had met everyone briefly and had already discovered what Xander'd said was true…everyone, except himself and her, were brand new to the hunting game.

"Alright, here's my ideas," Timothy started in, "We'll need a vehicle, so, I'm going to turn the truck into our Batmobile. I've got this idea for a stake-gun that we can mount atop it. I'd need your help designing it, but, I think we can do it."

"…We can probably design something like a .50 cal," Xander muttered, "Just substitute the bullets for stakes, roughly the same size and weight, maybe add some ball bearings, or put metal on the inside."

"I was thinking about another thing," Timothy said, "Are vampires harmed by just sunlight? Is it just the light or is there a specific part of the light spectrum that causes them to burn?"

"…I don't know," he admitted, "But, that's a good question. If it's a specific ray, then, we can put special lenses on the headlights to send off that kind of light."

"Um," Sam had her hand raised, getting their attention, "I hate to say this, but, I've never fired a gun before. The closest I've ever come is a crossbow, and I couldn't shoot it worth a damn."

"I'll get to training everyone in their chosen forms of combat later on," Xander said to her, "The plan for right now is to come up with these weapons, then, to train with them. Do you know how to construct swords?"

"Not entirely," she told him, "But, I could stumble my way through it."

"Then, if you'll agree, we'll have you and Timothy work together to build swords and other weaponry you're familiar with, while me and him work together to build the weaponry that I'm familiar with. How does that sound?"

"…Alright, so long as I can keep some of the things I help make," she smiled.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he grinned at her, "Timothy?"

"What she said," the young man said.

"Susannah, would you be willing to help us," Xander asked her.

"Certainly," the young nurse said, "Any way I can be useful."

"Don't worry," he said to her, "We'll make sure there's something for you to do. Except in the field, then, we're hoping you'll have the least amount of work to do."

"Great," she said, "A field medic without any work. Joy."

"Damn straight," he muttered, "Alright…so, you're thinking about giving us a vehicle. What about communications? We might get separated and be in need of a lift out."

"Already thought of that," Timothy beamed with pride, "Two-way radios, attached to a utility belt. You, me, Susannah, and…Sam," she nodded, letting him know that he'd got her name right, "Can work on what we all need in them. Obviously a sheath for weaponry, maybe one for a stake and another for a blade."

"A holster in each belt, too," Xander put forth, "We'll need it if we get into too sticky of a situation."

"Maybe a compartment for medicine, too," Susannah suggested, "Some morphine, bandages, a belt for a tourniquet, some rubbing alcohol to slow down an infection."

"Replace the rubbing with real alcohol, something that'll burn well," Xander said, "You never know when you need the Molotov cocktail."

"And have a place for a canteen," Sam said, "And have all the water blessed. You may run into a vamp that gives you a last request, and that can always be a drink of water."

"Smart," Xander said, "And, make sure the canteen has a cross on it. And, everyone wears a cross, from now on. If I had the money, I'd probably get a bunch of tattoos of holy symbols around my neck, and have the ink blessed."

"Hey, maybe we could all do that," Susannah half-joked, "Make it a group thing, or something."

"That's actually not a bad-"

At that moment, the windows and the doors exploded in.


	10. Chapter 10

Vehemence

Timeline: Season 2, 'The Dark Ages'

Disclaimer: don't own. Just using for a fanfiction. Belongs to M.E.

A/N: After a six plus month hiatus, I'm back!! First attempt at a chappie, lemme know how I did. Trying to get back into the swing of things. AS.



Fifteen hostiles…surrounded…no hope of escape…these suckers are all gonna die!

Xander's own thought reminded him of a quote from a Marine. _We're surrounded…GOOD! Now they can't escape us!_ Or something like that, he couldn't remember. It didn't matter, anyway, at least not as much as the fist that was coming his way.

Out of the four people gathered there, only two had been armed, so, the odds were very against them. Sam had drawn her sword the second the invasion had begun, and had already decapitated two vampires. He had drawn both his stakes and engaged the enemy, easily staking one vamp that had just ran straight at him.

The odds, though thinned, were incredibly against them.

Timothy and Susannah were backed up into a corner of the shop, both using crosses to keep the vamps at bay. Both knew, however, that it would only stop them for so long before they snuck in past their guard.

Xander dropped his head as a vamp tried to nail him with a powerful punch, only to punch the vamp that had been directly behind him. Xander staked the wounded vamp behind him, then, threw himself into the vamp that had thrown the punch, bring him down to the ground, and staking him with his weapon.

As he landed in the dust, he saw something falling toward him, so, he twisted himself around to keep it from hitting him. As it fell, he recognized it for what it was.

Timothy's blowtorch.

Xander grabbed it and turned it on, thrusting it into the first vampire's face he saw, burning and blinding it at the same time, and he used it to set fire to its clothing, causing it to combust within seconds.

He used it to keep the four vamps that were around him at bay and, as he did so, he took stock of the situation.

Out of the fifteen that had come in, there were nine left, four surrounding him, four around Sam, and the other five were busy trying to break Timothy and Susannah's guard.

He restrained himself as he saw that the situation had just grown worse. Two vamps that had been around Sam had broke off, and had grabbed Timothy's tools. One had a circular saw, which, unfortunately, could run off a battery, while the other had gotten a power drill. Either one would break through Sam's armor, with ease.

"SAM," he shouted, "WATCH OUT!"

Hearing his warning, as well as seeing the vamp with the saw coming at her, Samantha ducked down and let the two vamps, who had been trying to catch her in a pincer movement, collide with each other, both cutting and drilling into each other. Unfortunately, the other three had more than enough opportunity to jump on top of her, and that was exactly what they did.

OK, neither groups'll last more than a minute longer, so, how can I solve this situation with one decisive strike?

He took another quick look around and, suddenly, an idea (an idiotically dangerous one) came to mind. He moved over to a nearby table, using the torch to keep the vamps at bay, and grabbed a piece of wood. He dunked it into a liquid, which he hoped to God was gasoline, and lit the wood on fire with the torch.

As soon as it was lit, he tossed it to the nearest vamp, who caught it on instinct, and was instantly lit on fire. The vamp nearest to it also got its pants leg caught on fire, and the two were desperately trying to put out the flames.

Xander used the distraction to stake the two utterly shocked vamps, leaving the other two to burn to death.

His distraction had served its purpose, too, for the four vamps atop Sam had been momentarily distracted from their search for her neck, and she used that to escape their clutches, decapitating a vamp along way. Seeing their companions dust, two of the five vamps that had been antagonizing Timothy and his cousin dislodged themselves from the fight and ran over to Xander.

The young man used his torch to blind the first vamp that came to him, and he shoved that vamp into the other, and the two fell onto the still-lit sword. Xander, satisfied that the burning sword's use was over and that the other three could maintain themselves a moment longer, turned the torch off and grabbed the fire extinguisher, putting it out with the foam before it could become too much of a danger.

As soon as it was out, he went to go aid the group in the most danger. He staked one vamp behind, going through its back to the heart, and that alerted the other two to his presence. Before they could engage him, Xander tossed the unlit torch to Timothy, who caught it and turned it back on, using it to assault one of the vamps.

Xander and the other one engaged, and it launched a furious attack at his face, one which he barely dodged. He countered with a knee to the gut, followed by a downward swipe with both his arms. It wasn't enough to bring it down to the ground, but, the vamp did go to its knees. He raised both his hands, preparing to end its unlife, when the vamp used its claws to swipe his legs out from under him, bringing him to the ground. The vamp got on top of him, held both his arms down, staring at his neck.

"I'm not going to kill you," it said to him, a devilish grin on its once-male face, "I'm going to turn you, make you one of us, to replace the ones you killed. How does that sound?"

"Piss off," Xander roared at the vamp, slamming his head into it.

Instead of forcing it off of him, all he did was give himself a headache and make the vamp pissed. As it loomed down upon him, preparing to drive its fangs into him, Xander did the only thing he could think of.

He kneed it in the groin.

That was enough to make it gasp and loosen its grip, just enough for him to force it off of him. Before the vamp could get up, however, another being had jumped onto it, slamming a stake down into its heart.

Xander got to his feet, a little shaky. That was as close as any vamp had ever gotten to feeding off of him. He turned towards the one who had staked the vamp, who was just kneeling there, shocked to the core.

"Hey," he knelt down beside Susannah, who was just staring at the spot where the vampire had last been, "You OK?"

She didn't respond. He knew she wouldn't.

"It's hard, staking the first one," he said to her, as well as to himself, "But, just remember…they were dead long before you ever met them. What you did was release them. It was merciful, when compared to what the person had been through."

"…Is…every battle like this," Susannah asked him.

"Most," he answered honestly, "Some are actually tough."

"And this was…"

"Not much," Xander said with a sigh, "Just wait till your first apocalypse."

"Xander," her response was delayed when Samantha called him over, "We got one…undead, I guess you could say."

"Come on," he helped the somewhat mollified girl to her feet, "Let's go see what our friend has to say."

The two walked over to the bench where Sam was holding the vamp, a skinhead dressed in leather, held still by the point of her blade and Timothy's flame. Xander came forward, pulling out a bottle of holy water, and stood a few feet in front of the vamp.

"…I'm only going to ask you this once," he said, "Then, the pain begins. That for heat," he pointed towards the torch, "That for cold," he pointed to Sam's sword, "And this," he lifted the bottle up for the vamp to see, "To help sooth the pain."

"What do you want to know," the survivor was freaked out by this human's calm nature, how he easily commented on how he was going to torture him, almost as though he were talking about the weather. So, he was doing exactly what he should do: trying to survive.

"Who's your boss," Xander demanded.

The survivor had an idea of what would happen: either the human would kill it and call it a night, or, he would release it to its master, to tell the vampire called Spike of its failure, and to be tortured to death. There was one way out of it, though…there was a vampire named Garrett, a former swordsman who had been turned not too long ago. Garrett had been taking over ever since the night he became a vampire, gaining ground and leverage with some of the town's most powerful vampires.

As it had gained power, it had begun challenging Spike for territory. Spike, who was busy trying to kill the Slayer, would probably be unable to destroy the enemy. Since this human wanted a name, the survivor decided to use it as a way to keep itself alive.

"A guy called Garrett," the survivor shouted, "Hangs around _Fiend_. He and William the Bloody have been feuding over control."

"Why'd he send you," Xander asked.

"I think I know why," the girl armed with a sword said, her face paler than death, "Does Garrett have brown hair and a scar on his ear?"

"Yeah," it answered, "How'd you know?"

"…Get this, fang," the girl growled at it, "We're going to let you go, but only so you can deliver a message. Tell him this…we're coming for him, do you hear me!?"

He nodded his head.

"Get out!"

Not needing to be told twice, the survivor ran out as fast as its undead legs could.



"Why did you let it go, Sam," Xander asked calmly, already having a good idea why.

"Because, that vamp it mentioned, Garrett," she sighed and said, "He was my father."

"…So, he sent the vamps to come and finish you off," Susannah figured.

"It's not like him," the sword maiden said, "He'd call that kind of an attack cowardly, saying that a warrior should take on his enemies directly, not through hired help."

"Hate to say it, but, your dad's a vamp now," Timothy said, "Honor might not make much of a difference."

"Actually, a vampire might still retain a sense of honor," Xander countered, "Only, it would be warped to its own specifications. Odds are, your dad still has some honor, but, it's not enough to stop him from sending people at you."

"…So," Timothy said, "On the job less than a month, and we've already got an enemy."

"It's good," Xander said with a grin, "Now we know who to focus our attacks on."

"…Well, it's been fun, guys, but, I think I'm going to head on home," Susannah said to them, grabbing her stuff as she did so, "I'll be by tomorrow to help clean this mess up, Timothy."

"Me, too, man," Xander told his friend, "Those were some good ideas, too, I think we should get cracking on them as soon as we can."

"Sure, but, let's get this place cleaned up, OK," Timothy grinned.

"Yeah, I'll help you out, too," Samantha told him as she passed by, "I'll also bring by some pictures and some of Dad's swords so we know what we're up against."

"Great idea," Xander said to them, "I'm going home, see you."



The surviving vampire, whose name used to be Vincent, walked into Spike's lair, a worried look on his face.

"Well," the vampire himself stepped out of the darkness as Vincent came to the main hall, "How'd it go, mate?"

"…They won, Spike," Vincent said, a quiver in its voice, "They killed all the others, and only let me go after I told them who it was that sent us."

"Really," that seemed to surprise Spike, "Wait. They? Who's they?"

"That boy, Harris, a redhead armed with a sword, a boy with brown hair, and a girl with brown hair."

"Hmm," Spike rubbed his jacket, causing it to squeak slightly, "Sounds like Harris has gotten himself some new friends. Interesting. Well, mate, sounds like you all got roughed up. So-"

"Wait," Vincent raised his arms, interrupting the platinum vampire as he did so, and said, "I didn't tell them it was you who'd sent us, Spike. I said it was the new guy, Garrett. They sent me back here to tell him that they were coming for him."

Spike thought about what his minion had said…the four of them were coming after his competition…two enemies, working against each other. It would put Garrett off his back long enough for him to get rid of the Slayer, and it would get rid of the whelp, which would cause the Slayer some grief…or, the whelp would win (_as if_, he thought to himself) and he'd lose an enemy.

It was a win-win situation.

"That was good thinking there, mate," the English vampire said, "For that, I'm going to give you five seconds to get out of here before I kill you."

Vincent was already running for the door before he'd even finished Spike's sentence and Spike, in a moment of rare mercy, decided to let the vamp go. Of course, that mercy was muted by the rising sun which caused Vincent to combust into ashes, but, that was alright.


	11. Chapter 11

Duplicity

Timeline: Season 2, 'The Dark Ages'

Disclaimer: don't own. Just using for a fanfiction. Belongs to M.E.



Willow read the passage twice to make sure she had it right. She had been working on the spell for hours, ever since she'd got the book. It was a very complex spell, one that took about two weeks to develop.

Her plan was simple: she knew that Xander was patrolling on his own, and she knew that he would eventually get killed. Buffy had said that she would take him back if he promised not to patrol but, the Xander she knew was far too proud to let her win that easily. The only thing that she could think of that would be believable was for him to have a close call…to nearly be killed on a patrol. He'd come back, saying that he'd been scared straight, and they'd all be friends again.

She knew it would work…it had to.



Xander sat down at his desk that morning, getting ready for class. As he did so, he noticed something that was becoming more and more common.

Buffy was staring at him.

Only today, unlike every other day, her eyes remained intently on him. The rest of the time, she would only pay attention to him when it was convenient. Today, she wasn't paying any attention to the class…just to him. She was trying to find something out.

She was spying on him.

Somehow, he knew that this should have been expected. He knew that, after he'd pulled himself out of her life, she'd start paying attention, but, today, she was after something specific.

But…what?

He sighed and refocused his attention to the teacher.

When class was over, he left the room quickly, and headed in the opposite direction of his class, which also was the same direction as her class. As he turned a corner, he caught sight of her, less than five feet behind him. And she was supposed to be a Slayer, stealthy?

He moved around another corner and stopped at…

He smiled, realizing that he had stopped at Cordelia's locker. This would be too fun.

He pulled out a blank piece of paper, folded it up, and stuffed it into her locker, then, moved on, entering an empty classroom. He stopped and waited on her and, sure enough, the blonde Slayer had stopped at the locker, and was looking around to see if anyone was still there.

He sighed, his hopes of Cordelia embarrassing Buffy ending in a horrible death.

Then, just as she had broken the lock, every single god, good or evil, that he had ever offended, answered his one solemn prayer.

Just as she'd opened the locker, Cordelia, Harmony, and the Cordettes had entered the hallway.

"I can't believe Anna got that same sweater," Harmony was saying, only to stop as Cordelia sighted Buffy, who was staring at them with a red face.

"I, ugh," Buffy stuttered.

"What the Hell are you doing in my locker," Queen C screeched, and she came forward to slam it shut, only when it did, it didn't lock. This prompted her to take a look at it.

"Oh, my GOD," she gasped, "You psycho bitch, you broke my lock! You broke my locker! Now, anyone can come and just read my notes, look at my books, do whatever they want in here!!"

"How could you open this damn thing," Harmony asked her, "What, are you taking steroids or something?"

"That would explain the facial hair," Aphrodisia looked pointed at her face, indicating the areas with her eyes.

"Oh, my God," Cordelia looked livid now, though there was some joy in there, "Buffy Summers is a roid junkie! This explains so much. Her mood swings, her freaky strength, that time she dropped all those weapons."

"She's probably in a gang, too," Harmony put in.

"What were you doing in my locker," Cordelia demanded.

"I…I, ugh," Buffy was flushed with embarrassment.

"She's probably looking for ways to pick guys up," Harmony suggested.

"Or, ways to pick you up," Aphrodisia said, "Oh, my God. She's a lesbo, and she wants you!"

"Wait until Samantha and Larry hear this," Aura said, "Let's go tell them right now!"

With that, Aphrodisia, Aura, and Harmony took off to spread the horrible rumors about the Slayer, while Cordelia just stayed right there, glaring at her.

"Alright, Buffy," Cordelia snarled, "Why were you in my locker? Was it some kind of locker monster?"

"Locker…monster," Buffy muttered, still somewhat in shock over the previous events.

"If there's nothing in there, then I want you to leave, right now," Cordelia said to her, "Or I swear to God, I'll get Snyder to-"

"Snyder to what," the Principal, John Snyder, said as he joined them, "You two are out of class and…why is that locker missing its lock?"

Xander really had no idea what to do now…laugh in jubilation, or groan in despair. So, to that end, he kept his mouth shut.

"Principal Snyder, I-"

"Buffy Summers," Snyder smiled that ratty smile of his, "I should have known."

Xander was at a crossroads at that moment…should he help her out or shouldn't he? He thought about the possible conclusions: he did nothing, Buffy hounded him nonstop, and Joyce would have to pay for it. He intervened, and Snyder could possibly turn his wrath onto him.

He sighed, and decided that Buffy's mother should not have to pay for her daughter's destructive nature.

"Principal Snyder," he greeted the small man as he came out of the room, "I've been looking for you."

"Get lost, Harris," he never took his eyes off of Buffy.

"Sir, the janitor asked me to come and get you about that locker," that got the Principal's attention, "He said that something relative to Sunnydale did that."

"Relative…to Sunnydale," the man paled at that, "Is that what he told you?"

"Yes, Sir," he answered.

The visibly shaken man nodded and said, "Thank you, Harris. Now, all of you, get to class."

With that, the man disappeared.

"…What the Hell just happened," Cordelia demanded, "Why did you cover for her?"

"Because, Mrs. Summers doesn't need to pay for that," he answered honestly.

"And, why have you two been so separated lately?"

"Well," Buffy tried to fill that one, but, she just couldn't muster the words, "You see-"

"Buffy kicked me off her group because I wouldn't stop patrolling," he explained calmly.

"…What," Queen C was beside herself, "What the Hell is wrong with you, Buffy?! I mean, sure, he's a worthless loser, but, come on! He's your friend. I'd expect something like that from Harmony, but…you?"

"He was going to get himself killed," the Slayer defended herself.

"And, yet, you died and were brought back by him," Cordelia reminded her, and the girl paled.

"How…"

"I read Giles's diary," Cordelia waved her off, "I wanted to know more about how to avoid demons, so, I stole it."

"B-but, Angel helped him."

"Only after I forced him to," Xander calmly interrupted, "Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Why did you put a note in her locker," Xander stopped at Buffy's question, turned around, and walked back to her locker.

"Here," he handed her the page, "Something for all the trouble you had snooping."

She stared at him as he walked off, and, once he was out of sight, opened it up.

"Nothing," she groaned, "How did he know I was following him?"

"Well," Cordelia pointed down, "Those heels, for one. God, an astronaut would see them from here."

With that, the head cheerleader moved on, shaking her head in frustration, leaving a depressed and irate Slayer behind.



"Here's his favorite sword," Samantha presented the group the next night, "A katana, hand crafted and build in Japan by some of the greatest swordsmen and artists in the country."

"Damn," Xander muttered, "It must have cost a fortune."

"And it's beautiful," Timothy took the sword and examined it, "Look at it…it's a work of art."

"I think someone's in love," Timothy refused to blush at his cousin's comment.

"Alright, here's a picture of my dearly departed father," Sam held up the photo of him and handed it off to Xander, who studied it carefully, trying to imagine him in vamp face.

"…Top priority," Xander said to the group, "Get pictures made like this, and remember, he might be in his game face. But, as that's happening, Samantha and I shall stake the club out, pun so totally intended, and we'll follow the largest group of vamps. Odds are, if he's in control of a group, then that'll be the people we need to target. If we see Garrett, we follow him.

"Samantha, I will be on the inside, while you will watch from the outside."

He paused, expecting her to make some sort of objection, but, instead, she just nodded.

"We will stay in contact through these," he tossed her a two-way radio, "You contact me when you see a large group of vamps, or Garrett, and I'll do the same.

"Susannah and Timothy," the two looked at him expectantly, "You two shall be working on the artillery. We'll alternate, too, one night, after the first week or so, I'll come in and Susannah will be the substitute, or Sam'll come in and Susannah will replace her."

"Why can't I be a spy," Timothy asked him.

"Because, you have the most amount of experience with this, and we need our main engineer doing what he does best," Xander said, "Besides, I thought you didn't want in on the field?"

"I didn't," Timothy answered him with a dark look, "But…after what happened the other night, I think I can safely say that all my reservations about fighting have evaporated."

"…Good," Xander said, "Hesitation can only lead to death.

"Next week, we start watching the club. Till then, we all pitch in helping Timothy with the artillery till 1900, then, we go out on patrol. The way it's going to work is, until we come up with a way to seal this place off from intruders, only two people will be patrolling, while the other two will stay here in defense of this area. Sound good?"

They all nodded.

"Great," he clapped his hands together, "Let's get started."


	12. Chapter 12

The Benefits

Timeline: Season 2, 'The Dark Ages'

Disclaimer: don't own. Just using for a fanfiction. Belongs to M.E.



Jenny Calendar looked into Sunnydale's main library, the High School library, and tortured herself with more thoughts of going in there and resurrecting her relationship with the sexy fuddy-duddy she knew to be in there.

She had thought about Xander's words ever since he'd come to her, and was trying to convince herself to go to him, to embrace him…but, she couldn't. She knew that they had betrayed their most loyal friend, and that had stung her opinion of them very much…she'd chosen to side with Xander, and did not regret that, but, more to the point, she was worried what the young man would think if she were to engage in a relationship with Rupert. She knew, intellectually, that he would be ok with it, he'd suggested it, after all, but…what if his mind saw it as a betrayal, even after his words?

She felt so silly, hesitating to ask a man out, simply because she was worried about a teenager's feelings…yet, here she was, worrying about a teenager's feelings. She missed the old days, when she'd stopped being around him because of what Eyghon had done to her. More often, she missed the days when she could go out with him for no reason other than wanting to.

She sighed and turned around, realizing that she was not yet ready to talk to her love interest.



"Hey, Miss Calendar," Jenny looked up as she heard the familiar voice enter her room, and smiled as she saw Xander.

"Hi, Xander," she greeted him, "What can I do for you?"

"I need your help," he smiled at her, "See, some friends of mine have a metal shop inside their yard and, well, we want to find a way to keep it protected from vampires and such. Do you know of any spells?"

"What, the no invitation doesn't cover it," Jenny asked.

"No one lives there," Xander said to her.

"Hmm…there are some protection spells that could work well," Jenny stated, going over to her computer and pulling up a site by heart, "…Yeah, this one should work well enough. It blocks demonic entities from entering the area, unless they have permission from you. Sort of like the vampire invitation clause."

"Great," Xander said, writing down the site address on a piece of paper, "And, Miss Calendar…I thought you'd like to know that…I'm kind of building a group up."

"Really," she asked, she'd rather thought that he would work solo, "I'm surprised, and impressed. Do you think you can lead a group?"

Xander felt a moment of anger at her words, but, dismissed it as needless. She was asking because of the way Buffy's leadership skills may have impacted on him, and with good reason. Unlike Giles, she wanted to help him both in the field and on a mental level, but refused to be cowed by him.

"I'm not sure," he answered, "But, I'm willing to try."

"…Well, I think that's a wonderful idea, then, Xander," Jenny said, "Who knows? One day, Rupert may miss a threat."

"That's something else I wanted to ask you, Miss Calendar," Jenny nodded, beckoning him to continue, "…I'd like you to be a part of it. See, we need a witch and someone who knows a lot more about demons than I do, so…"

"…You mean, be your Watcher," Xander snorted at that, but, he understood her reference, so, he nodded all the same, "I don't know, Xander…Rupert's always been the one to do all that."

"But, Giles doesn't need to be working for Buffy and me at the same time," _And he might not_, Xander thought, "It'd be too much for him."

Jenny sighed, realizing that he was absolutely right about that. Still…she'd never really helped advise a group before…except occasionally with Buffy's group, and then, she'd known that there was an expert there, able to back her up.

But…she knew that Xander would go on with this, without her help, if necessary…

And, it would be a way to secure in his mind that she was on his side, and allowing her more leeway with Giles.

"…I'm in."



A week passed.

Buffy made another attempt at following Xander, though outside of school, so as to not bring down the wrath of the Cordettes upon her. Rumors of her lesbian/steroid-abusive/psychopathic nature had spread like wildfire throughout the school, amply aided by the one and only Queen C. Already, she'd had a few lesbians come and ask her out, all of whom had just knowingly shaken their heads when she'd said she was straight.

Just because she had no visible boyfriend didn't mean he wasn't there…and, to her credit, he was there, just not in the daytime.

Angel continued to brood, like he always did.

Giles had gone to both Xander and Jenny, asking for forgiveness in his role in the young man's leaving their group…Xander had accepted, only because he could tell that Miss Calendar was having issues in asking him out, and had hoped to be rid of those issues. Fortunately, Jenny, instead of forgiving him, asked him out.

Willow had secretly prepared the spell, and was planning on unleashing it after the career fair ended. She was beginning to get nervous, before, it had been something to dream about, but, now that it was beginning to come to fruition, she was wondering if she'd made the right decision…then, she'd remind herself of how much she missed Xander, and how much she wanted him. That took the fear out of her mind.

Susannah had begun learning magic underneath Jenny's tutelage, more as a way to gain a concept of both mystical and modern healing, and as a way to block the memories of Halloween night out of her mind. She had also been interested far too much for Xander's liking when he'd informed the group of the rumors spreading about Buffy. He was worried that her experiences that night had made her abandon the male sex, but, if that was her reaction, he had no choice but to accept it.

Of course, it could easily have been the fact that she was still pissed at the Slayer for calling her a demon that one time, but, his male mind hadn't really considered that possibility yet.

Timothy had already collected several lights that operated on different parts of the UV spectrum, so, they were going to test them out on the first vamp they captured. He'd also come up with designs for the stake machine gun that would be mounted atop the truck, which was starting to take a much more real shape due to the foursome's work on all his projects, most of which had been shifted for use in the field.

Sam had begun teaching Timothy how to use the sword, along with instructing him on her knowledge of sword design and other weaponry she knew of. She'd also raided her father's armory, and moved some of the weapons to Timothy's workshop. He'd talked to his father, who, along with Xander, Timothy, and Sam, would add on another three rooms, along with another level, one which would be used to store weaponry. The four would also work on a lower level, one that they would keep secret, just in case things got a little too hot.

Jenny, meanwhile, had performed the spell the protect their HQ, effectively protecting it from any more invaders. She'd also preformed a few protection spells, one for each of them, and herself. She'd offered them to Rupert, but, Buffy had refused them.

Their surveillance of _Fiend_ had produced frightening results. Vamps used it as a feeding ground, much the same way as they did the Bronze, but, they were a Hell of a lot smarter. They stayed in groups of four, three at the least, sometimes two if it was a slow night…the sad part was who was running it. A human named Wilson was in charge of the club, and he had a long-standing deal with the vamps that his club could be used, but, they couldn't take more than fifteen one night.

Garrett, as Sam had identified him on the second night of surveillance, used the club frequently, congregating in some secret, underground room with his lieutenants. Fortunately, none of them had noticed their watching them.



"Here we go, Timothy," Xander said, him and Sam dragging a severely beaten and unconscious vampire with them, "Tie him down, and we'll try out your UV's on it."

Timothy nodded and grabbed his flashlights, all of which held a certain UV signature, one which he had written onto tape on the side of the flashlights.

Sam and Xander had already restrained the vampire to his table, near his circular saw, where they could easily dust it, if necessary.

Timothy started off with UVC, light which projected UV rays at under 280 nm. That was ineffective, doing nothing but illuminating the vampire. He moved on to the UVB, light that projected UV rays at 298 nm, almost right between 315 and 280, which he figured would be safest if it was that spectrum. No dice.

So, he moved on to UVA, at 348, right between the two…this time, the vamp began to burn, not much, but, enough to make it wake up. Xander and Sam restrained the creature, holding it down as it struggled against the burning sensation.

"Go higher," Xander said.

Timothy nodded and put the light away, getting out a 380 nm beam of light…the vamp burned up quickly, forcing the two to let it go and watch as it became ash.

"I'm impressed," Sam said, "I really didn't think we'd be able to do that."

"Another weapon for the good guys," Xander said, "I'll give Giles the info, let Buffy decide whether or not to use it."



"I got the headlights with the 380s," Timothy was saying to Xander about the motorcycles, all of which he'd replaced the lights for, "I've also been working on a way to add weapons on, without attracting much attention."

"…The only thing that I can think of is wooden spikes, but, like you said," Xander put in, "It'd draw too much attention."

"We'll figure something out," Timothy said, "So…what are we going to do about that club?"

"Level it to the ground, eventually," Xander said, "But, not before we kill Garrett. I'm not willing to trust a vampire to die in a fire. Plus, I think Sam could benefit from seeing her undead father rest in peace."

"Maybe…"


End file.
